How to Train Your Norse God
by skelton-elliot
Summary: When Loki unexpectedly makes an entrance into her life, Darcy is suddenly swept up in the madness which is World-Domination. Will she keep Loki's secret and help him? Or try and prevent his seriously out of proportion family feud? Rated M for good measure
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

A rush of air swept past Loki's face – the last sensation he felt before his whole body was consumed. The black hole enveloped him like a deadly mist and slowly he allowed himself to drift and flow through space and time. It felt like being torn in pieces and crushed and stretched all at once.

But he knew he would survive – after all, he was essentially immortal. The notion that his God-like strength protected him from certain death calmed him… but also made him anxious - an emotion he had not felt since his infancy.

But now he was grown, thousands of years of experience and life behind him. There was no room for childish anxiety or fear. There was only hate. And where his future was normally uncertain, as he now plummeted through the unknown, he felt a resonating clarity. He knew exactly what his future would hold.

Betrayal. Deceit. Trickery. Lies.

Death.

As it always had.

As his mind floated, ephemerally separated from his body, he began to plot his revenge. He knew not where he'd wake, nor who he would meet, but he _knew _his revenge would come swift and resolute.

No matter the obstacles, he _would_ avenge his pride. He _would_ be his brother's equal. And he _would _make his so called _father_ pay for denying him what was rightfully his.

He would nurture his hate – something he had been so afraid to do before, but now reveled in with ease – and would set it loose on all the nine realms.

* * *

><p>Utgard-Loki cracked his fingers, watching the icy tendrils of cold bend away from them. He had heard of the stranger's arrival, and waited for him on his frozen throne. His attendants were hidden in the pillars and cracked shadows which surrounded him. He would not be fooled by the visitor's apparent weakness. He would be ready for any trickery.<p>

The events of the past weeks had been warning enough. Dealings with the God of Mischief, whether he was one of them or not, were always going to end in destruction. Their home - already marred by the battles and acts of war which preceded Loki's antics - was in ruins. But after the Bifrost was set loose upon them – by none other than the one who had sworn to rebuild their once beautiful home – Jotunheim was nothing more than a frozen wasteland of devastation.

Utgard-Loki clenched his icy jaw. No, he would not be decieved again, like his predecessor.

The visitor was close. He could sense the footsteps of one lithe and limber, plotting his way across the icy rubble at his feet. He was a god… an Aesir… someone familiar…

"Loki…" he rumbled, watching as the figure approached his throne. The man in question sauntered through the pillars in all his deceitful regality; chin high and eyes glinting in the cold light.

"What madness drives you to enter my hallowed halls, betrayer?" his crisp voice was ice and daggers, growling through the hall and setting his subjects' on edge. Loki smirked – flirting with danger.

"Only the madness of revenge," Loki said softly, his cold green eyes glinting.

Utgard stiffened, "you seek your revenge here? After all you have done to us – what could you possibly hope to obtain? What could you possibly want to avenge? We have done nothing against you..." the King's anger was thick and rolled off him in chilling waves.

Loki watched the walls, not meeting his kin's dead, red eyes, completely ignoring the seething hatred which boiled around him. He said softly; "It is not on you I wish to place my revenge," he brought his hands up to his face to check his nails. He held that pose, staring down his long, aquiline nose at the grit beneath his bone. After a moment he looked at the king apathetically.

"I have come hoping that you will aid me," he bowed awkwardly.

Utgard laughed – a sinister, callous growl which echoed along the hall. His subjects joined him, tensing for retaliation to the traitor's words.

"Foolish prince," Utgard hissed, "we shall give you nothing except a slow, calculated death," he flicked his fingers at his two closest guards who began to stride menacingly towards the small, seemingly vulnerable Loki.

But the Prince simply shrugged, watching the guards with obvious boredom, "I suspected you would be so _simple _as to respond that way, Utgard-_Loki. _I hoped, seeing as we share a name, that some of my intellect may have rubbed off on you… but I am clearly mistaken," he smiled like the mischief-maker he was.

Utgard growled, "you dare insult me?"

"I think, instead of making idle threats, you should broaden your mind and consider the reason as to _why _I have insulted you, King of the Frost Giants," Loki said impatiently, now walking towards the king with gravity. "I am not a thief. In exchange for helping me there is much for your people to gain."

Loki let the bait sit as he now stood before the King's throne, just one step away from being level with him. It was taking all the self-control he possessed not to eliminate the deluded King where he sat in an instant – how dare _he _presume he could challenge Loki – the Prince of Lies!

"What are you speaking of?" Utgard rumbled. Loki grinned.

"I seek revenge on my brother… and 'father,'" he sneered at the mention of his family. "They have done me a _grave _wrongdoing and I wish to see it undone."

"And just how do you plan to do this?" Utgard asked, perplexed and slightly interested, though still trying to keep up an air of bitterness.

Loki smirked, seeing through his mask; "I seek to avenge my dignity by eliminating my brother and the All-Father, taking my rightful place as King, and proceeding to rule over the nine realms…" Loki said simply, boredom thick in his voice as if this were all in a day's work.

"I also seek to _hurt my_ _brother," _he continued, licking his lips with disdain. He was facing away from the King now, not showing the pure bitterness which adorned his sleek features. With a small sigh he whirled back.

"I need your people to do this," Loki said patiently, "And I hereby swear that if you do so choose to aid me in the destruction of Midgard, then it will be _yours_ for the taking in the aftermath. Your rule would then stretch through _two_ realms, and you would be free to do with the mortals what you will." Loki swept his arm, "The multitude of beings on this planet, once amassed, could destroy all of Midgard in a _single day_," Loki grinned triumphantly.

But Utgard was confused, "Midgard? Why would you waste your time with that mortal filth? Why not just take over Asgard and leave that realm be?"

"Because… my _dear King," _Loki now stepped up to the throne, baring his teeth in a grimace. He let out a mirthless, breathy laugh then said with devious relish:

"…_that _is where my brother's _lover _is."

* * *

><p><em>UGH, get my out of here.<em>

_I'm so over these meetings. What the hell is the point. I get it that Jane needs to sit in and take notes and whatever but _me? _I have no part to play in this crap._

Darcy Lewis slumped in her chair, staring daggers at the head of S.H.I.E.L.D: Nick Fury. His one good eye surveyed the little crowd of agents and scientists and superheroes or whatever, as he droned on and on. Something, something _Avengers… _something, _Evil villains… _something, something… _I'm a big fat retard._

Darcy sniggered, catching a dark glance from Agent Coulson who sat down the aisle from her. She resisted the urge to poke out her tongue – even though her presence here was _completely _pointless and _totally _unnecessary, she still needed the job. Might pay not to piss off the superiors.

"…and so we must protect it with our lives. The cube's power is astronomical… infinite. The _Avengers _have been assembled to prevent that power from ending up in the wrong hands." Fury then gestured to the right, where a little band of pretty average looking individuals started filing into the room. Darcy recognized Stark from T.V. – _Hasn't that guy been on Letterman or something? _She knew he was some super-rich, super-smart dude with lots of high-tech stuff. But the rest of the group were foreign to her.

_I don't care, _she thought. She'd heard all about S.H.I.E.L.D.'s plans. She knew they'd found some uber-powerful cube thingo, which if some baddie got a hold of, would be able to take over the world… twice-over.

But she also knew S.H.I.E.L.D. was the most powerful agency in the world – with more veto than the White House apparently. And as Fury started introducing all the superhero spandex-club people, she knew they were probably the most powerful people on the planet, too. She felt pretty reassured that the cube would be fine. Not like she really gave a crap anyways. Who would be tripped out enough to go evil and try steal from S.H.I.E.L.D and _The Avengers_?

She forced herself to pay attention to Fury – purely out of boredom. Jane seemed riveted… maybe the dude _did _have something interesting to say.

"There is one issue I would like to address… and it pertains to a certain group of people within our organization," Fury shifted his steely gaze towards Jane and the other sciency nerds which apparently included Darcy. _Ew._

_Wait, us? What the hell?_

"As most of you are well aware, thanks to the Foster theory and the Foster-Selvig research, we've been able to study the possibility of life outside our planet. The being Thor was here for a time, but is now lost to us in the astrophysical expanse that is time and space. According to some theories, the usual method of travel known as _The Bifrost _is otherwise broken, thus rendering his usual method of travel impossible. Our top researcher, Jane Foster, is working on worm-hole technology to bring Thor back to us. This is vital to our operation."

Understanding slowly sunk in. _I get it. Thor would be _perfect _for saving the world. He had that whole defender of the innocent, protector of the weak, noble shit going on. Yeah, bring back Thor!_

"The cube is of Asgardian nature… according to past files and witnesses… if there was anyone who could understand, and protect, the cube efficiently, it would be Thor."

Jane started nodding eagerly beside me. _Oh Jane… you are the epitome of fan-girling._

"And so our future projects will be thus – the agents and the Avengers will protect the cube against all who would seek to misuse it, and those under Jane Foster will continue their research, and eventually find a way to bring back Thor."

People started clapping – _Oh, oh shit, we're clapping. Clap, clap, clap, yay Fury! Pay attention Darcy _- and the meeting was finally over. Darcy sighed in relief and slumped in her chair even further.

She watched as the rest of the agents started moving out. The spandex-club, though, remained and started to assemble around Fury. He seemed to be addressing each of them individually, suddenly gesturing towards where Darcy and Jane were sitting. _Hmmm._

She was vaguely aware of Jane bubbling away excitedly beside her and turned to tune into her rabbling.

"… know what this means, Darc?"

"Huh?"

"I said, do you know what this means?" her voice was super high. Oh no. Super-high-voice Jane was super excited Jane who Darcy didn't particularly like conversing with.

She grimaced, "Whaaaaat?" she asked cautiously.

"It means," Jane grinned, "we get more funding! And man-power! And support from _S.H.I.E.L.D._ for crying out loud."

"I thought we already had that," Darcy said.

"No, no, not like this. They were just housing us, basically, and making sure we weren't up to no good. _Now _we can actually get things _done. _We can bring Thor back, Darc!" and then Darcy saw a glimmer of a tear in Jane's eye and remembered she really did love the big air-head.

"That's great Jane," she tried to sound genuinely excited. "I'm sure you'll get to see your boyfriend real soon."

"Oh… oh well… he—he's not really my boyfriend," she was going red. _Cute._

Darcy laughed, "Come on, now that that boring meetings finally over, we can go get some coffee. And some proper coffee this time, not that S.H.I.E.L.D. crap. It tastes like dish-water."

They stood and started walking out of the room, when suddenly some massive wall of meat was blocking them. Darcy looked up, slightly put out, only to see a huge muscle-man standing in their way.

_Move bitch, get out the way!_

"Uh… can I help you?" Darcy asked the giant politely - with a huge dollop of sarcasm mixed in.

"Oh… sorry, I just wanted to introduce myself," the meat-wall said. It had the ability to speak. And it was friendly. _Great._

"Well, nice to meet you, but me and some seriously scrumptious coffee have a date, so I really gotta get _going," _Darcy tried to push past the man, but he put his hand out to stop them. _The bitch put – his – hand – out. Oh hell no._

Darcy was pissed now. No one got in the way of a coffee date. "Listen buddy, I'm not jok—"

"I'm sorry Miss Lewis. Miss Foster. But by introducing myself I mean… I'm assigned to you…"

"What now?" Darcy arched her brows.

"I'm… your personal body guard… so I'm assigned to protect you," the man flashed his pearly whites. The guy certainly had a nice smile.

_But hang on… what? Personal body guard?_

"Uh… Jane? Why do we have a personal body guard?" Jane seemed pretty perplexed.

Suddenly Nick Fury appeared beside them, and gestured to the meat-wall with an emotionless smile.

"This… is Captain America. I've assigned him to your case, Miss Lewis. Seeing as you're affiliated with our top researchers – which are therefore our top priority – we cannot have anything going wrong. Steve here will make sure of that."

The man called Steve grinned again and Darcy fought the urge to roll her eyes. _Come on, are you serious?_

"Um… that's great Nick but I'm pretty sure _I _don't need a body guard… it's Jane who'll need protecting," Darcy really didn't want some WWE wrestler following her around everywhere. She was _not _a people person, even though she did have over 500 followers on Tumblr. And that totally counts.

"I'm afraid you are mistaken, Miss Lewis. As Jane's closest confidant, you, too, are in danger. What better way to undermine Miss Foster's research than through her assistant?" Fury smiled a victorious smile. Darcy scowled. _Whatever pirate, you may have won this little battle, but I shall return… armed and ready…_

Darcy let her mind wander as she imagined herself winning word-battles with the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent in various scenarios which always ended with her winning some trophy or prize or whatever. Fury noticed her distraction and cleared his throat noisily.

"Anyhow… Rogers will accompany you wherever you go, Miss Lewis. As for you Jane, I have assigned Hawkeye to your protection. However, he is currently in Guatemala… so you'll have to try and stick around the Cap as much as possible until he comes back."

Darcy arched her brow – _Guatemala? Yeh coz that was totally normal for people to skip off to Guatemala… well maybe when you're a super-hero it _is _normal… whatever._

"Whatever," Darcy said rudely, she was completely impatient by this point. "Come along Cap… you can shout us all coffee," and with that she grabbed Jane's and Steve's wrists and dragged them out of the room.

_This day sucks. Not only did I have to sit through this boring meeting, but I also have to drag two of the most ditzy, annoying Labradors around with me. Ugh. _She just wanted to enjoy her coffee in peace without any people around like the sociopath she was.

They came to the carpark, and she whipped out her keys. Well... at least she'd gotten a pay-rise. She'd been totally stoaked with that. Ever since Jane hired her as her personal assistant, she'd been getting more moneys. Not tonnes, but enough to buy her own car and a little apartment.

She sighed – it was definitely not the year she'd planned. First the internship, then the whole Thor stuff, then S.H.I.E.L.D. getting involved which really dampened her chances of ever continuing Uni. And once she'd dropped out at S.H.I.E.L.D.'s request – regrettably and not to mention pretty pissed-off-edly – Jane had then offered her a nice job as her assistant. Sure, it was the totally wrong science she'd wanted to be working in, but at least she got to get all the S.H.I.E.L.D. perks.

Such as total know-how on secret agent stuff, and superhero stuff, and Norse mythology stuff which was pretty much fact rather than myth.

Yeah, she was comfortable in her job – although she got pretty aggravated at the people and was often an outcast because she had nothing to offer – either in the nerd department or in the super spy department – she was still relatively happy.

And although Jane was a total Barbie and a constant pain in the butt-cheeks, she loved her like a sister. They'd been through a shed-load of stuff together. That did things to a relationship. She genuinely liked working for Jane. Although she had to give up some stuff for it, it was the best decision of a bad lot.

_Ah wells, at least I got a wicked car, _She thought to herself with a grin as she opened the door to her off-red 1973 Mini Cooper. Her baby.

"Ah, sweet retro bliss," she crooned as she swung herself into the drivers' seat, patting the silky leather grip of the wheel affectionately. She had yet to come up with a cool name… but for the moment it was just Baby.

"Uh…" she heard a small noise from behind her and realised Steve Rogers was trying, with serious difficulty, to get into the back seat through the front door. She stifled a giggle.

"Oh yeah… crap… I didn't think of that," she bit her lip. "How about you ride coach and let Jane hop in the back. She's twiggy enough to fit through the gap," Jane scowled.

"Oh… but I couldn't let a lady ride in the back…" Rogers seemed genuinely put out by this.

"Um… it's not 1940 anymore Cap… this is the 21st Century. Chicks and dudes are equals now, bro, she wont die if she gets thrown in the back."

Rogers blinked, slightly startled, then resigned, defeated. "Whatever you say, Miss Lewis," and he stepped back for Jane to clamber into the back seat.

Okay so maybe the whole Mini Cooper thing was a bit of a bad idea with the whole three door situation… but at least Darcy looked like a boss when she drove around town.

Rogers squeezed in next to her, trying to shrink as he fit his long legs in, then his enormous shoulders. His choir-boy haircut brushed against the roof as he ducked.

She felt a little bad, "Sorry bro… I'm not used to having WWE wrestlers for company," she scrunched her face up by way of apology and he just smiled confusedly.

"What's WWE? Is it a modern war?"

Darcy narrowed her eyes, "you know what… never mind. Let's just go, my caffeine stocks are seriously depleted." She turned back to address Jane, "anywhere in particular you wanna go Janey? _The Buzz_? Or are you in a mainstream mood and wanna head to Starbucks?"

Jane shrugged, "I'm not too fussed…"

"How 'bout you Cap? Are you eccentric or mainstream?" Darcy asked.

He just blinked, "Uh… the decision is yours Miss Lewis, I'm simply your body guard."

"Ugh," she turned the keys in the ignition agitatedly, "I hate making executive decisions," she mumbled, then reversed rather eagerly, racing out of the carpark and into the hot New Mexico sun.

* * *

><p><strong>Skel: <em>So, new story guys :D let me know what you think I'm so into this story.. I've planned it all out and I've written about five chapters already, hehe. I dont think I'll ever be able to stop writing Lodar fic, it's way too addictive :P<em>**


	2. Chapter 2

**Skel: **_**This is a café I used to go to when I lived in Sydney – I was tempted to do Starbucks, but everyone does Starbucks! If you live in Sydney go to Newtown and The Buzz is down a little alleyway on the main road. They serve **_**the best **_**coffees ever. I don't think the waiter's name is Tristan though...**_

_**Thanks for your reviews guys! they keep me going :)  
><strong>_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

_The Buzz _café was a rare find. On one of her random walks through the city, a few days after she'd moved into her new apartment, Darcy just happened across the little alleyway on a whim. She'd been caught by a soft, radiating music which floated out from a door, and being the curious adventurer that she was, of course she'd inspected it.

As Darcy had wandered down that seemingly average alley-way all those months ago, she'd suddenly found that the door lead into a strange looking nursery or green house of some sort. Eventually she discovered it was a smoking-room, with chairs and tables scattered through the indoor forestry. Everything about it screamed "strange," which was totally Darcy's cup-of-tea. After that first night, a string of nights had begun which involved lots of drinking and lounging and café-ing, as well as many happy times spent in the smoking room out the back with all the awesome eccentrics and oddballs.

And being the hipster she was – _not really -_ of course she frequented the place like it was her second home. Although the pretentious dicks that came in sometimes irked her, the smokers out back were cool. They were the scruffy underground of Albuquerque, rather than the flashy, artsy types. She'd even met a guy there; a tall, guitar-playing bohemian who'd had dreads – she'd _always _wanted to go out with a guy who had dreads – and they'd had a few sleepovers. But she'd never been one for commitment, so that had turned into nothing. Like so many of her relationships.

So now here she was, totally at home, swaggering her way in through the back door, throwing a casual wave to some of the regulars. Jane had come along a few times before, too, so she was used to it, but Steve stuck out like a red nose. He kept glancing around at the strange looking bohemians lounging about the forest, hidden behind a veil of questionable smoke, and fidgeted uneasily with his hands.

Darcy rolled her eyes. Not only did she have to put up with him, but she had to actually _bring_ him out in _public_. _Ugh. Not my day._

She sat down at her regular table – a two-seater in the corner beside a particularly overgrown pot of ferns – and pulled up an extra chair. A short, pimply guy wandered past, and she gestured to him.

"Hey Darc, how's it?" the waiter asked in a very mellow voice. Darcy smiled – she could be bothered to talk with _these_ sorts of people. They were all socially awkward and spent more time in books and online than out with other humans. She smiled.

"Hey Tristan, I'm just on my coffee break. I need some serious fuel, and I think my frien-… er… colleagues could do with some too," she gestured awkwardly towards the Captain who just watched everyone nervously. Like a choir-boy at a rave. Completely out of place.

"Oh… cool," the waiter watched the new-comer warily. Darcy quirked a smile at him; "A cappuccino for the big guy, a chai latte for Janey and I'll have a double-shot Mocha with two sugars—"

"And extra chocolate," Tristan winked, Darcy grinned.

"You got it."

The waiter wandered off, leaving the three to sit in awkward silence. Steve straightened the buttons on his shirt.

"So… Steve was it?" Jane said tentatively after a few minutes of space, "why don't you tell us about yourself."

_Oh come on, seriously? We're gonna make small talk now?_

"Uh… well… " Steve began, still fidgeting with his buttons, "I—I was born in New York, 1917… joined the army at age 23… "Rogers bit his lip, seeming to deliberate for a moment.

"And… I was genetically mutated in a military experiment," he said cautiously.

Jane and Darcy's eyes widened. _Woah… cool._

"Genetically mutated? Is that why you're a wall of meat?" Darcy asked a little too eagerly.

"Uh… yeah I guess," Rogers replied. "The serum I was injected with altered my DNA to make me into this..." he waved his hands at his chest.

"Cool," Darcy said slowly. Maybe this guy wasn't so bad. Genetically mutated experiment from World War 2 was pretty exciting.

"And so… you were around during World War Two… what was that like?" Judging by his caution, she knew better than to pry, but she was all of a sudden very curious. _Could you blame a girl for loving her history? _She wanted to know what Hitler was like in person.

"Uh… yeah. Well, some of it anyway," a faraway look came into Steve's eyes. Darcy wondered if she'd been a little _too _eager. If you'd lived through the war there was probably some stuff you didn't want to talk about.

"Oh…" she said lamely, leaving him to his little reverie. He suddenly looked like he was a billion years away. She and Jane shared an awkward glance.

Trying to look like she wasn't too socially inept, Darcy turned around to survey the room. It was pretty packed, being a Saturday afternoon and all. There were all different kinds of people here – none of them usual. In fact, her table was probably the most normal one of the lot, and she thought the three of them looked pretty strange already.

Suddenly she noticed a man sitting alone in the opposite corner of the room. _Scratch that, he's _definitely _the most normal. _He was dressed in a suit, with a black shirt unbuttoned slightly to reveal his pale white skin. He had inky black hair which fell across his face as he stared down at the newspaper in his white, skeletal hands. Darcy was taken aback – he had an imposing aura, and seemed to command a presence that none of the other eccentrics in the room could. He suddenly pulled out a cigarette and an expensive looking zippo; flicking the cigarette to life and taking a deep, long drag.

He lifted his head slightly to let the smoke escape his thin, fluid mouth and Darcy gasped. His bone structure was perfect - sharp, jutting cheekbones and a defined jawline made his face both delicate and sharp. He had a long, high nose which defined his profile perfectly, and his eyes were deep-set, low and heavy, staring apathetically out the window. As the overcast sky glimmered on his milky skin, she could see a flash of brilliant green as he glanced upwards.

And then his eyes suddenly darted towards her, stabbing her right in the chest with their intensity. She felt her heart race uncontrollably as he caught her staring with his aloof, green gaze of perfection.

_Woah…_

"Woah…" Darcy whispered.

"What is it, Miss Lewis? Is something the matter?" Rogers piqued somewhere behind her. She wasn't really paying attention. She was too focused on the Adonis before her.

"Whu…?" she mumbled, reluctantly turning back. Her mouth was slack, like she'd just been slapped, and she was certain there were stars and rainbows spewing out the gaping hole in her face. She couldn't believe someone _that hot _was sitting but a few meters away from her, in the same café, puffing on a cigarette like some French-chic God.

"Is everything alright?" Rogers asked again. Darcy just shook her head, trying to dispel certain naughty images which were now flooding her super sexually frustrated mind.

"N—no, it's nothing. Everything's fine," she sincerely hoped the sex-god hadn't noticed her creepy drooling over him. _Far out, is it even legal for someone to be that attractive?_

Probably not. She rubbed her eyes blearily, feeling like she'd just woken from a coma.

Suddenly the waiter came back with their coffees. Relieved that there was something to break the tension, she focused all of her attention on the chocolatey goodness before her, trying very, _very _hard not to think about certain others in the room.

After what felt like an hour – but in reality was only about five seconds – Darcy couldn't resist and casually turned around, pretending to check out the plants and people's wacky hairdos.

She glanced towards the corner…

_Yikes!_

She turned back furiously. _He's staring at me! _She'd been stabbed by his huge green eyes again – and they were watching her like sniper-sights. His steely demeanour and pulsating bitterness had all been injected into his stare, and she felt it horribly.

_Oh god, oh god, oh god, he thinks I'm some perv. He thinks I'm a creep… he hates me, I haven't even spoken to him and he hates me!_

She felt like throwing up. Or swallowing bleach. Or something self-destructive. _Burying myself would be nice. Or launching myself from a canon. Or standing between a magnet shop and some knives…_

Darcy was momentarily distracted from her emo-ness when she saw a flicker of black out of the corner of her eye. She turned infinitesimally to see the Greek Sculpture saunter _very _quickly out of the door, shrugging on his overcoat as he stopped to stand outside.

And then he looked back towards her.

Everything in her screamed to turn around, but this time she felt completely cornered. His gaze was a mixture of disbelief and sincere interest. It was like he was peering through a foggy window, trying to make her out, but at the same time completely incredulous.

She felt her lips moving, gulping in air like some dying fish, but still she could not tear her eyes away from his. A millennium of smouldering passed between them … and then some mohawked idiot stepped into her vision… the colourful obstruction walked past and then…

_He _was gone.

Vanished.

"What the fu—" Darcy remembered her company, "—uuuddgggeee…" she finished, glancing at the two sitting with her for the first time in what felt like eons.

"Uh, Darc? Everything okay?" Jane was the one concerned now. She could probably see the cold fear all over Darcy's features. She felt like her entire body had turned to ice. _He just vanished!_

"Miss Lewis?" The Cap now… but she couldn't be sure, all the voices were melting into one big cloud of noise.

"Eh… I just feel… a bit sick…" well, it was a half truth. She was also scared shitless and possibly bordering on catatonic.

Not only had she been caught perving.

But the guy she'd been perving on, simply vanished. He was there one minute, then not two seconds later… _poof._

Gone.

"Jesus…" she whispered, suddenly wondering if the others had seen what she'd seen.

"Hey… did you guys… see that?" she gestured out the window to where the phantom male model had been. Jane quirked an eyebrow and the Cap just shook his head confused.

"The man …walking out the door?" Jane offered hesitantly.

"Yes, yes!" Darcy got a bit more excited. Maybe she wasn't going crazy if others had noticed him too.

"The one with the strange hair?" Steve asked.

Darcy felt her stomach drop, "No… not that one… the – the one with black hair and … really green eyes…" her voice was getting faint.

"Darc… I didn't see anyone else…" Jane was starting to get really worried now.

"Are you sure? He was sitting just over there…" Darcy gestured hesitantly to the table, but Jane just watched her even more concerned.

"Darcy… you were staring like you'd seen a ghost over there… what was it?" she gestured towards the chair. _The _chair. Where _he_ had been sitting.

"That's because… the guy… he was…" she choked on her words. Jane and Steve were both looking at her _very _strangely. _Did they seriously not see him?_

"There wasn't anyone there, Darc… the seat was empty…"

_What? _Darcy's head suddenly felt very heavy. Weakly, she eased her forehead down onto the table, feeling the coolness of the wood beneath her temple. _Ouch. _Her head hurt. She wanted to curl up in bed and die. She felt horrible. She felt like death. Some seriously trippy shit was going on. _They couldn't see him? _Was she just overtired? Or were they not paying attention?

She _definitely _saw someone there. The newspaper was still on the table as proof! She felt questions start buzzing around her mind…like why had he looked at her like he wanted to _kill her? _And why did he look like the sort of person who wouldn't even hesitate to do so?

And that endless stare through the window… why did he look so curious? And confused? It was such an intense stare she almost felt like he could have read her mind.

A shiver tracked its way down her spine.

"I—I think we should… head back. I don't feel so good," her Mocha was doing strange things to her stomach. _Ugh. Gross._

"Understood, Miss Lewis," Steve's voice was serious - he was the man with a plan. He suddenly stood, knocking the table slightly as he did so, and reached over for Darcy.

"Hang on… wait, what-?" but it was too late, Steve's enormous arms were hoisting her up to his chest and she felt a strong wave of vertigo as he swayed her into his arms, then started walking out of the shop.

_Oh god, everyone's staring! "_Steve! Put me down… Are you freaking kidding me?"

But he seemed to have a bad case of selective hearing. _Bloody superheroes! _Jane came trotting along behind them as they made their way towards the car.

"I'll drive," Jane said, swinging herself into the drivers' seat. Steve carefully placed Darcy on the backseat with ease, allowing her to lie down across the nice-smelling leather. The fight in her suddenly evaporated and she nestled herself into the fabric. _Let me die, let me die. _She felt like throwing up everything she'd ever eaten.

As the soft hum of the car began, and the patterns from outside flickered across her window, she shifted her head so that she could see them properly. Trees and cars and people all flashed past like some sick slide-show which churned her stomach, but she felt too exhausted to move.

And then they turned a corner …

She blinked as the window threw images at her… and then froze.

There at the lights stood a tall, slender man, with a black suit and ebony hair framing his ivory face and…

_Green eyes._

She watched him with cold dread, as his eyes trained to her. He wasn't even moving… just standing there as all the people milled about him in varying colours. Completely oblivious. His ashen white face and malicious green stare stood out from the crowd.

His eyes followed her until they were around the corner and out of sight. Darcy brought her face back around slowly, trying to comprehend what she was afraid of acknowledging, and slumped down into the seat. Wrapping her arms about her knees, she dug her face into her arms, trying to erase that haunting stare from her mind.

That was when the shivering started. Violent tremors which racked her frame. She couldn't stop thinking that something was very wrong. This wasn't normal creep behaviour. This guy was …

"_Evil…" _she whispered. She hated to say it, but there was no other word to describe that stare. The violence and malice in his eyes… the resolute bitterness…

_Yep. Definitely pure evil._


	3. Chapter 3

**Skel: _Bless you all for your motivating reviews! They're the best remedy for my procrastination._**

**_The whole note thing will be explained soon, but not in this chapter._**

**_Henjoy :D  
><em>**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

Erik Selvig woke up at three in the afternoon, completely exhausted and oblivious as to what he'd been doing the past couple of days.

He didn't know what day it was, nor why he had such a splitting headache. He assumed it was alcohol, but couldn't remember ever agreeing to go to the pub with anyone. Jane wasn't much of a drinker and Darcy rarely invited him out… and none of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents even had lives outside of their jobs. He screwed his eyes shut as a stab of pain split down the side of his temple. _Ugh._ The last time he'd been this wasted was the morning after Thor had taken him out for a drink…

He rubbed his eyes… feeling his age. He could barely muster the courage to attempt to sit up in bed. His back ached, his head throbbed and his knees felt like they'd been walking a thousand miles for days on end.

He shuffled himself awkwardly over to check the alarm clock…

17th of October

_Good God, is it really..? _It was Sunday morning. Selvig felt a deep fear in the pit of his stomach. The last thing he remembered doing was watching the late show with David Letterman on a _Tuesday night…_

"Good God…" he repeated, slowly, carefully sitting upright. There was a twinge in his lower back, but he ignored it. He had to find out what had happened.

Gingerly he pressed his feet onto the floor of the caravan. He really should have taken S.H.I.E.L.D. up on their offer and shacked up in one of their complexes. But he didn't like the idea of living in a compound with hundreds of men-in-black-look-alikes buzzing around, poking in on his work.

But the bed in the caravan did horrible things for his back. He stretched and heard clicks and groans in his aching bones.

It was then that he noticed something strange on the table top where his laptop usually sat - a small note. He whirled around worriedly, looking for where his laptop had gone… but found it stashed away in the corner, where he usually put it when he wasn't using it

_That's strange_, he thought. He only put it there when they were driving the caravan… not when he knew he'd be stable for months on end…

He turned and stepped towards the strange note sitting in the middle of the table, feeling an uneasy sense of foreboding. It was crumpled and had creases through its center, showing it had been used frequently.

Curious, he picked it up and unfolded it, then froze.

He read it again. And again. And again. Then he raced over to his computer and opened it instantly, furiously slamming at the keys and opening the file he wanted…

The number was the same.

He checked and double checked, counting how many numbers there were, checking their order…. But no matter how much he willed the numbers to be different, they remained identical.

Except that this note he held was written in an entirely foreign script… sharp, cursive writing which flowed along the page in perfect curves and angles. He felt his heart stop beating.

It was his passcode. _The _ passcode only a very select few were permitted to know…

Just how and why was his passcode _here, _in _someone else's_ writing?

Selvig felt very cold, a deep chill of fear filling his very core. The forgetfulness… the laptop… the note… it was all too suspicious. Something was _very _wrong.

And he was certain it had something to do with the cube.

He was the closest researcher… the one man with the most knowledge on the cube and its power. This passcode was access to that information. He was supposed to guard it with his life.

And someone else knew it.

He ran his gnarled hands through his thinning hair, sitting down shakily at the table. Staring at the crumpled piece of paper in complete shock, he tried to wrap his head around the crisis before him.

Why would they leave the note here? A thief sophisticated enough to discover the password surely wouldn't be so careless as to leave it lying around. And he was certain his strange memory loss was connected... but how?

And most importantly… who was behind it?

Erik knew he had to inform someone right away. Hurriedly he slammed the shower on, praying to some Norse God or other that it would heat up quickly. He had to shower and dress in time to catch Fury before the day ended. And he had to look at least a little presentable – showering was the least he could do.

In fact, if he was going to give Fury the worst news of his life, he _should_ be turning up in a three piece suit. Or a tuxedo. Selvig groaned… there was no outfit suitable for a death sentence.

* * *

><p>"What…? Are you serious?" Darcy thought that if her eyelids got any lower, they'd hit the floor.<p>

"C'mon Darc… it's compulsory."

Darcy rolled over onto her stomach and shoved her face deeper into the pillows. _Maybe if I push hard enough I can suffocate… or choke on some feathers._

Jane had showed up at her apartment not _two hours _after her coffee incident to bring her the horrendous news.

There was,

Another,

Meeting.

_Jesusmarymotherofjoseph HELP ME NOW._

"I'm not bloody going," she grumbled. She couldn't take one more miserably boring meeting about the end of the world.

"But Darc," Jane whined, "it's really important. More important than the last one… Fury was adamant _everyone _needs to be there." Jane was wringing her hands, her brow creased with worry. Darcy could glimpse her out of the corner of her eye – she looked like a doll. Seriously, even when she was freaking out, Jane was perfect.

And Darcy often found it very hard to say no to Jane. So it was saying a lot that she could now.

"No, Jane, tell Fury I'm sick. He can come and kill me with his death-stare himself."

"You know he will, Darc," Jane warned, completely serious. Darcy just laughed.

"Don't worry Jane… I'll just get the lowdown from you. You're great at summarising." She rolled over and rested the back of her head in her hands. "Seriously… just go, it'll be fine."

Jane's petite shoulder's slumped, "if you say so…" she was defeated. "Get some rest, okay? I don't like seeing you unwell…"

Darcy gave her a smile, "I feel better already," she lied.

Jane started walking towards the door then stopped at the frame.

"Listen Darc… make sure the Cap comes back here straight away, okay? Erik sounded pretty freaked out, and it got me worried…" she bit her lip.

Darcy groaned internally. Although she'd been scared beyond her bodily limits once already today, she was certain nothing else was going to happen. She'd be totally fine.

"I will," she promised. She knew it was a hollow promise though. If the Cap forgot to come find her… well… who could blame her for not going to find him? She tried to suppress a devious smirk. It would be nice to get some peace and quiet without choir-boy chasing after her.

With a curt smile, Jane's little head disappeared and she shut the door, leaving Darcy happily alone in her little apartment.

If you could call it that… it was more of a room with plumbing – the cheapest S.H.I.E.L.D. had to offer on the compound. There was a little kitchenette and lounge, separated from the bedroom area by a small wall which only stretched halfway across the room. There was a small ensuite which served as the only bathroom, leading off to the right, and a tiny walk in wardrobe which was a strange bonus. She looked at it now, wishing it were stocked with better clothes. Actually, she just wanted more band shirts, if she were honest with herself.

Darcy sighed. This was what she wanted to be doing. Staring into nothing, thinking of nothing, _doing _nothing. She didn't want any expectations or responsibilities or obligations. With a blissfully simple smile she swung her legs out of bed and went to make some coffee, the day's terrors and concerns all but forgot.

She wondered if _everyone _was at the meeting… _that would mean the entire compound is empty…_

Her eyes widened. _Now there's an idea. _A perfect opportunity for exploration. With a new found vigor she sped up her coffee making and poured it into her portable cup. Scuffing into some slippers eagerly, she made her way outside.

S.H.I.E.L.D. was all about white. White and silver. White walls, silver floors, white ceiling, silver doors… it was painfully secret-agenty. She grimaced as she walked down some abandoned corridor and was almost blinded by the pure whiteness.

_Well this is kinda boring… I thought they would have some interesting secret-agent stuff lying around._

She stopped, _well duh, it's not just gonna be lying around is it… if it's _secret_ agent stuff. _Starting to realise the reality of her decision, her 'vigor' started evaporating. She sipped on her coffee absently, dawdling along.

She wondered how far she could push her luck, and started trying the different closed doors she came across. Most were locked, which annoyed her. How was she supposed to explore properly when all the doors were locked? Walking along empty corridors all night wasn't fun at all.

Her images of being some hardcore _Indiana Jones_ sidekick started to wane. With a pout she decided to end her adventure in the middle of the corridor. Besides, she'd probably just find more corridors if any of the doors _were _unlocked.

She spun around, fully prepared to abandon her short-lived quest, when something caught her eye. Along the smooth, crispness that was the perfectly white wall beside her, she spotted something black. It was like a crack which ran along the panels vertically. Curious, she spun back and walked down towards it, realisation slowly dawning.

It was a door… though it must have been a very well concealed door, for the face of it melted into the wall with perfect smoothness. The only thing that gave it away was the fact that it was slightly ajar, leaving a small black crack along its edge.

The _Indiana Jones_ theme song started playing and Darcy felt pumped again. Pretend gun in hand and whip by her side, she strafed the wall then slowly edged the door open so she could fit inside.

It was pitch black, but as she walked along the floor, she could see soft beams of light by her feet, dimming on as she touched the ground, and fading away as she moved on. As her eyes got used to the strange glow, and soon she realised she was in _another_ corridor which lead on straight ahead until it veered off to the left.

Excitement and tense anxiety bubbled up within her. Knowing her status, she'd probably be fired if they found out she were in here… but the temptation of exploration was all too strong. Right at that moment, she really didn't give a crap about the consequences.

Jogging now down the path, gun and whip still in hand and theme music reaching a glorious crescendo, Darcy rounded the mysterious bend…

She was suddenly in a huge room, just as dark as the corridor, but with more dim lighting along the walls. Everything had a faint blue hue to it, and she could see different levels built into the walls. It was a _huge _room. The ceiling was at least triple the height of her apartment's, and its length would easily fit it tenfold. She could vaguely make out strange scientific apparatus, enormously complex computers, and machinery she didn't recognise. And always there was that faint blue light emanating from somewhere.

As she descended the stairs down to the base floor, she saw that everything curved inwards as if it were facing the centre… and as her eyes followed the flow of the design and adjusted to the lack of light, she saw it…

There in the centre was a huge circular dome, completely black save for a window which stretched around it. She could see that the blue light was coming from the dome… from something _inside the dome._

"Oh… shit…"

In the very middle stood a black stand with claw like clasps. Atop this stand was the source of all the light… pulsing with a mesmerizing beat and a soft intensity...

"The cube…" she whispered, anticipation welling up inside her. "Mother of fuck, the _cube_!" she cried out suddenly, throwing her arms up in the air.

_What the hell?_

As she'd shouted, she noticed a flicker of light – or was it darkness? – scatter across the window in front of her. Like something had just run past it, blocking the cube's light for an instant.

Fear replaced her excitement. _What if I'm not alone…?_

With shaking hands, Darcy stepped _very _gingerly towards the dome. The thing that had moved must have come from _inside. _It could just have been a trick of the light, but she couldn't be sure. She was too far away to make it out.

As she moved closer she was sure there definitely _was _something moving… behind the cube now. It was like a huge black shadow, shifting around cautiously.

"H—hello?" she asked the air. Nothing. Her heart was hammering in her ears, and she felt a heavy weight on her chest. _Don't have a panic attack now… oh God, not now…_

She reached the dome, peering in through the window into the blue, inky blackness. Narrowing her eyes and trying to bring the images into focus, she looked past the cube and…

_Fuck. Me._

_No way…_

Her voice was strangled, but she managed to pull it together and cried out; "Hey!" The black shadow started at her shout, and suddenly shifted very quickly to the right. She followed it and could still see the faint outline…

Of a man.

A familiar man.

A rather sinister,creepy, _green eyed_ man.

"Hey, you! I—it's you! What are you doing in here!" she was getting pissed now. Was he trying to hide from her? It was pretty obvious he was in there.

The faint blue light from the cube danced on his face as he moved infinitesimally closer to the window. She could clearly see the same pallid cheeks with jutting cheekbones, and the hum of light cast thick shadows beneath them, making him look sallow and painfully thin. His hair melted into the blackness surrounding him, but she knew it was there – dishevelled and flowing down to his shoulders.

"It _is _you…" she whispered.

He wasn't wearing what he was in the café. It was like armor – skin tight and thick at the same time. Most of it was black, and curved with his body, but some of it was a very deep green, including the cape which hung from his back. As she stared closer, too, she noticed small pieces of gold which glimmered dully in the mute light.

She narrowed her eyes, begging her brain to keep up. _Who is this guy, I totally know this guy…_

But she was altogether distracted. Totally_, utterly_, distracted.

Because his face was close now - only a few inches from the glass - its stark whiteness standing out from the shadows which surrounded him. The blue glow of the cube did strange things to the colour of his eyes, and they looked far more sunken and deep-set than she remembered. His high nose was raised as he looked down at her; his chin strong and proud. And he was tall. _Unbelievably _tall.

But it was his expression which completely stole all her memory of how to breath. His mouth was slightly open, his eyes; wide and glistening, and his brows furrowed so that they made a long dark shadow across his forehead. He was in complete shock.

All of a sudden there was a wisp of air and he disappeared only to materialize right in front of her. He stood now, in the flesh, so close, her nose could almost touch his chest. _I am a midget. I am a complete fucking midget. He could use me as a foot-rest. Oh God… I can't even think straight… does he have to be so close?_

Darcy felt the strangest sensation tingle all over her as she felt their proximity. Not daring to meet his vicious gaze, she watched his feet step closer towards her.

"Wh—who are you?" he growled. If you could call it a growl. It was more like a symphony or a quartet playing some amazing sonnet. It was iron and velvet, commanding and soothing. Darcy visibly wilted.

Then she realised he had stuttered and looked up to see that same intense incredulity she'd been trapped by at the café. Gulping noisily she tried to make her vocal chords work. Her mouth was the Sahara.

"Uh… uh…" she mumbled. His face was so _close. _Close enough to…

_No! No don't think about that… don't think about his lips… C'MON Darcy! This guy is obviously some evil villain here to steal the cube. Think, Darcy, think! Use those Political Science skills._

She swallowed again and cleared her throat. "I could very well ask you the same question," she said loudly, with hugely false self-confidence.

The man was taken aback, and he narrowed his eyes. She bit her lip, as he shot her a gaze which said: _I'm going to fucking kill you and I'm going to fucking enjoy it. _He was going to kill her. _Oh god… I'm going to die._

But suddenly something flickered in his eyes – Shock? Sarcasm? Mockery?

No… it was something like… amusement. _He's amused?_ She thought about it for a second then felt a wave of relief. _Yes, he's not going to kill me!_

And then he smiled,and it was all Darcy could do not to leap on top of him and pash him into oblivion. His smile was _heart-wrenchingly perfect. _His porcelain skin creased into lines and dimples in all the right places; his eyes glimmering with some mischievous delight. And his _laugh. _She'd thought his angry voice was an orchestra… this was an angelic fucking choir.

_Wow. Wowowowowowow._

"Interesting," he said suddenly, his eyes were full of fascination and his voice was still thick with laughter. She suddenly felt very uncomfortable under his super-intense stare - like some specimen under a microscope.

To push the notion further, he started to circle her, his leather boots tapping almost silently across the floor. He lifted a hand to rub his lips absently, becoming a perfect sculpture of captivation. Darcy could feel his eyes burning holes in her skin, and she grimaced slightly. He stopped behind her.

"You can see me?" it was more of a statement than a question, but she answered it anyway.

"Uh, duh I can see you. I'm not blind," although she was the epitome of wonder and awe, she was slightly pissed at this guy. Her brash instincts were kicking into gear. First he'd freaked her out at her café, now he was freaking her out on her adventure. Could he not find some other hobby? This one was getting seriously old.

He laughed again, a small, breathy sound, and she shivered slightly. Her skin tingled on her back as she sensed him moving closer towards her.

"What is your name, mortal?" he asked. In any other circumstance, Darcy would have rolled her eyes at his tone. _What is he, some King or something? This guy has some serious superiority issues._

"Don't talk to me like I'm beneath you," she retorted, spinning around angrily. His face was that same mask of amusement, tinged with aloof indulgence. Like he were a weary adult allowing a child to have their fun. _Ugh, this guy's really starting to piss me off._

_Stick to the task Darcy. Find out why he's here._

"Who are _you?" _she said rudely, "are you some retard arch-nemesis come to steal the cube?"

He blinked then and a broad grin spread across his features. "My, my… getting _cocky _now are we?" he lulled to her, bending lower so that they were eye to eye. He smouldered at her as he invaded her space, and Darcy felt some _serious _involuntary action going on downstairs. Her body was completely disconnected from her brain, which was everything _but _turned on. _Oh… god… oh… wow… _She hated him for being so perfect. He was the _bad guy _for crying out loud! He was supposed to be hideous.

Instinctively she stepped backwards, feeling the cool, hardness of the dome behind her and she flattened herself against it, hoping he'd stop moving. He continued to close the gap between them until she was completely trapped by his immense height, and then he stopped, smirking like a motherfucker. He bent over her, bringing himself closer and closer… his face now inches from hers… his nose skimming her hairline.

She gulped then steeled herself; "You can talk," she said bitingly. _He's the cockiest dick on the planet. Look at him, all suave and smooth. Thinks he can distract me with his charms and go about his business._

_Well, he's sorely mistaken._

There was that laugh again. He shook his head in wonder. "You are a very strange creature," he hummed to her, then suddenly pulled away. Darcy felt the tightness across her chest ease slightly. _Was I holding my breath that whole time? _

"In answer to your question, mortal, I _am _here for the cube… but not to steal it," he moved to look at the glowing blue object, a faraway look in his strangely-coloured eyes.

"Oh? So you're here for information?" she said, trying to mask the shake in her voice.

He smirked, "In so many words." With an aloof air, he cocked his head and watched her silently.

"If I reveal you my name, will you reveal yours?" he asked softly. Darcy thought her knees were going to give out. His voice was so _sweet. _So gentle.

"Uh ... yeah ...sure. But you first," she added crossly. She wanted the upper-hand.

He quirked a smile, "Very well. Though, I must admit, I am quite surprised that you have not yet recognized me. I had thought - what with all your dealings with my _brother - _that you would have surmised my identity by now."

_Brother? _Darcy furrowed her brows. _What the hell?_

But he kept smirking away. _Arrogant little piece of - _

He sighed, "My name is Loki. Prince of Lies and God of Mischief." He gave a slight bow which was oh _so _adorable, but Darcy was slightly too stunned to be swooning right at that moment.

"Loki…" she breathed. "_You're _Thor's brother?" her mouth gaped. _Woah… woah…_

_This is bad. This is _very, very, very _bad. Loki! This guy was Loki…_

He stepped ominously closer; "I am pleased you know who I am. Very soon _all _will know my name…" his voice was low now, ominous. And in any other circumstance it would have been _incredibly _sexy. But Darcy just felt cold. Very cold.

He pulled back, gesturing towards her. "And who, pray tell, are you? Do not back out of our deal, now, it would be _most_ impolite."

She could feel a sound like a bass drum in her ears, beating ridiculously fast. Darcy licked her lips, her eyes flickering around. There was nothing she could do - she was trapped. Loki could kill her in a millisecond. She had no upper-ground, no protection, and any attempt at using her words as weapons was lost. This was the God of Trickery! He was the ultimate-word smith. _Shi, shit, shit, shit, shit on toast._ She felt utterly small and completely vulnerable.

"D—Darcy Lewis…" she breathed, her entire body was shaking now. She screwed her eyes shut, trying to stop the burning sensation at the back of her eyes. She would _not _cry in front of him.

He seemed to notice her distress, and his gaze softened. "How can you see me, Miss Lewis?" he asked simply.

She blinked, then whispered "Uh… I don't… understand—"

"I mean," he interjected impatiently, "How can you see through my spell?"

"S—spell?"

"Yes. I have an invisibility spell cast. As of yet I have gone undetected through this compound… until today," he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, not taking his eyes off her.

"Are you some sorceress?" he asked seriously.

She laughed without humor, "N—no."

"Have you ever been learned magic?"

"No…"

"Have you ever been exposed to magic?"

"Uh well… just the worm-hole stuff but—"

"Has anyone ever placed a spell on you?"

"No."

"Have _you _ever placed a spell on anyone?"

"I already told you, I don't know any fucking magic!" she cried impatiently. This was ridiculous. She could see him. That was it. His spell must be screwed up or something.

"Hmm…" Loki tapped his lips, staring at her. "Interesting."

She sighed. "Look… could we just get the whole… mindless killing thing over and done with? I know you enjoy that stuff or whatever … but I'd really appreciate it if you just did it, and did it quickly." She folded her arms. Despite her immense fear, she was angry, and wanted to make sure he knew it.

He watched her seriously for a moment, then smiled; "And what makes you think I am going to kill you, Miss Lewis?"

_Man I wish he'd stop calling me that, it's way too sexy, _"Uh… I don't know, maybe because… I caught you out?"

He just laughed, "I would only consider eliminating someone if they presented an obstacle. If they were a threat…" he started stepping closer again, his face still mild and amused.

"And you, Miss Lewis, are no threat," he grinned teasingly. _Oh boy, and now he's insulting me._

_Wait…_

"So… you're not going to kill me?" she asked quietly.

He thought for a moment, scrutinizing her carefully, then seemed to decide something; "No, Miss Lewis, I am not."

_Phew! Biggest. Relief. Ever!_

_But wait… why does he want me alive?_

"What do you want from me?" she whispered, suddenly even more afraid than she had been when her life was in danger.

He licked his lips slowly – which did very strange things to Darcy's hormones – then lifted his chin. But he didn't answer her, he simply stepped backwards, giving her a little more room to breathe.

"The meeting is almost over," he said simply.

"Oh, shit…" Darcy had forgotten all about the meeting.

"Where will you go now?" he asked. She was a little taken aback.

"Why do you care?"

"I wish to know what you will decide to do, now that you have discovered my presence here," he started touching his hands together in a strange gesture. She was mesmerized for a second – watching as his thin, long fingers rubbed against each other.

"Uh… well ...telling people is out of the question," she said distractedly, "if I do, then they'll know I was in here and I'd probably get fired…" she bit her lip.

"In that case I suggest a quick escape. Most of the personnel are already heading this way," _was he always so damn calm? He could read out his own death sentence and make it sound like a bloody lullaby._

But before she could respond, he was suddenly beside her. Flustered, she watched as he slipped his thin – yet surprisingly strong – arm about her waist and drew her closer to him. A hot blush spread across her cheeks and over the tops of her ears and she hoped to every god in the universe that he didn't notice.

"Wh—what are you doing?" she breathed.

He quirked a sideways smile at her; "A quick escape," he said huskily into her ear, and she tried not to swoon into his chest.

And then with a flick of his wrist Darcy watched as the air spun around them and the scenery abruptly changed. The dark room disappeared, only to be replaced by her own. They were suddenly standing in the middle of her makeshift bedroom, facing the messy kitchen.

"Woah…" she breathed.

_Strangest. _Fucking. _Day. Ever._


	4. Chapter 4

**Skel: **_**There seems to be a lot of questions around Darcy being able to see Loki when he's invisible, so I'll explain it a little here:**_

_**First off, he's not letting her see him, it's totally out of his control. Secondly, Darcy has no control over it either. It has something to do with Darcy having magic ninja skills… but as to **_**why**_** she can do magic, I can't say. It's important I keep it hidden until the right moment, so bear with me until then!**_

_**Also, she can see him like any normal person, and hear him too, which is going to wreak total havoc when Darcy tries to do her job and he's buzzing around her all the time – plus being the God of Mischief, of course he's gonna have some fun with it :p**_

_**Also I may as well just tell you now - but Darcy's ability to see Loki stems from her exposure to the worm-hole. Some trippy shit happened when her and Jane and Selvig watched Thor zap around on the Bifrost. But I'm not revealing the details because that would ruin the story. But keep it in the back of your mind that it has something to do with worm-hole shit. Not worm shit. Worm-**_**hole **_**shit**_

_**Anyways! there is my very long-winded explanation – hope it was "adequate" enough, tehe.**_

_**Thanks for your reviews! I feel very privileged to have you guys reading my crappy story, and i get all emotional and Darcy-like when my email tells me people like it :) so thank you a thousand-fold!  
><strong>_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

"Now listen here, dude, you _cannot_ just go _zapping_ people around without at least a fucking warning!" Darcy shrieked from the bathroom. The sudden vertigo of being teleported unexpectedly had thrown Darcy's stomach _way _off balance. She flushed the toilet with her head still on the lid, moaning groggily.

"I do not need to explain myself to you," she heard from the door. Despite him being completely arrogant, Darcy was super self-conscious. She was pretty sure there was a hunk of puke in her hair or something. She felt like that girl off _Watchmen, _except she didn't have a science-experiment as a boyfriend. Just a Norse-god as a stalker.

"What are you still doing here? I told you to bugger off," she said through the towel she was using to wipe her mouth. He ignored her.

"Is this a typical Midgardian dwelling, or is it relational to your monetary circumstances?" he said primly. He looked like he had about fifty plums in his mouth. Darcy scowled.

"Relational," she growled, then pushed past him out into the main room. Completely worn out and deflated, all she wanted to do was hunch over on the couch with a jar of Nutella and eat it raw with a spoon while she watched sappy romantic comedies. Mind-numbing therapy. She was an expert on the subject. Plus, she seriously hoped the sight of her looking like Smeagol off Lord of the Rings would be hideous enough to compel Loki to leave. He'd been buzzing around for over half-an-hour – and it was aggravating her to no end.

Attempting to ignore her astronomical annoyance, she reached for her favourite fuzzy purple blanket, flopped onto her grungy couch and flicked the T.V. on. Season 1 of _Friends _was still in the DVD player and she did a mental fist-pump. Her past self could obviously read her future self's mind.

Then she realised she'd forgotten the Nutella and groaned.

"What is the problem now?" Loki asked suddenly from beside her. He'd decided to sit down casually on _her _couch, stealing some of _her _favourite blanket, invading _her _very private space. _Oh… yeah sure just help yourself to my couch, no worries, ass-wipe._

She was tempted to tell him he was an ass-wipe, but then thought better of speaking her mind. Sure he was a dick, but he was also a very _powerful, _very _easily-pissed-off _dick with some serious emotional issues. Being brutally honest probably wasn't the best idea.

So she simply replied, "I forgot to get the Nutella," and pouted into her blanket.

He was right beside her now, his back ramrod straight and his spidery fingers resting on his knees. He looked like he'd sat on a carrot which was now firmly lodged up his ass. She watched as he turned to quirk an eyebrow at her snootily.

"What is this… _Nutella _you speak of?" The word sounded strange in his funny accent and Darcy let a small smirk escape her lips.

"Sweet, hazlenutty, chocolatey goodness," she pined. "But I'm too lazy to go get it."

Loki narrowed his eyes, then brought his hand to his face. Suddenly the Nutella appeared in his pianist fingers and he turned it over, looking at it quizzically.

"Is this the substance you infer to?" he asked softly, but Darcy wasn't listening. She was too deafened by the sound of Angelic Choirs singing hallelujah in her ears.

"Fuck _yes_!" she clenched her fist in triumph, then reached for the jar like some sort of junkie. Snatching it away from him, she tore the lid off and went to dig her finger into the pot. She scooped out a huge hunk of the glorious mixture and dumped it in her mouth with relish, licking her finger probably a tad too eagerly.

Loki watched on in both horror and fascination, his lip curling up in disgust.

After a moment of orgasmic bliss, Darcy then turned to look at him. "What?" she said angrily. "Never seen a Twenty-two year old girl on a Sunday night? This is very normal behaviour."

Loki just blinked, regarding her with extra-caution.

"What are you still doing here anyway?" she said, putting the Nutella between them and folding her arms. "Don't you have to … you know … kill puppies or take over the world or something?"

Loki just kept staring at her, a very strange look on his face which she couldn't place. He looked… hurt? No, he couldn't be. But his features had rearranged infinitesimally to show some sort of pained emotion… but suddenly shifting back to the aloof mask which seemed permanent. She shrugged mentally – sure he was probably capable of being hurt, but not by her.

After a moment of awkwardness – which seemed to follow Darcy around like a cloud all of a sudden – he cleared his throat and patted at his armour absently.

"I am uncomfortable leaving someone of your… unique abilities to their own devices."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I do not trust you, Miss Lewis. For reasons unforeseen, you deflect my invisibility spell – a very complex spell might I add. I am uneasy leaving you when such aptitudes are so naturally at your disposal."

_Jesus… could this guy even speak English? She took a moment to decipher his Cambridge-Lingo._

"Uh… so basically… because I can see you, you think I have some weird ninja magic skills?" she tried.

"I do not see how Japanese Legends have anything to do with your propensities or… _magic skills. " _He furrowed his brow. "In fact," he continued,_ "_I highly doubt you have any talent at all. It more likely has something to do with _exposure_ rather than ability."

"Whatever," she peeved now. Who was he to decide whether she had ninja magic skills or not. She totally did.

"Look… surely there's something much more _exciting _you could be doing?" she ventured, "Besides, I can't _control _this shit, can I? It's not like I'm going to pose a threat any time soon – you said that yourself, if I recall correctly," she reached for her Nutella again, slightly put out that she didn't have a spoon, but whatever. _The gods gave us hands for a reason._

_Well… for more than one reason_, she thought as she caught sight of the god's hands beside her. He was doing that thing again where he rubbed them slowly; pressing his fingers together delicately as if he were touching spider's webs. She watched on and marvelled at how angular and thin they were – like pianists fingers. Long and gentle.

_Yeah… the gods _definitely _gave his hands many reasons for existing. _She'd bet they'd be very useful… particularly when he was pleasuring—

She stopped. _Enough of that! Don't think about his fingers doing naughty things, don't think about it!_

But it was too late. Could you blame a girl? Here she was sitting next to a freaking _god _for crying out loud. An unbelievably sexy god with pianists fingers. What _else _was she going to think about if not what he could do to her with his hands?

She tried not to shiver as her mind started wandering to naughty places. _Very _naughty places. Scenario's involving his potentially useful fingers began flickering through her mind in some erotic mental montage…

_Digressing! _She snapped out of her porno, remembering he was an actual human being who was sitting beside her. Probably noticing her horniness. But he was pondering something and so didn't seem to witness her embarrassing internal conflict. He finally stopped rubbing his hands and put them down gently. _Phew._

"All the same," he said softly, rubbing his chin now, "it would not hurt to keep a constant eye on you. Usually I would be able to do this undetected, however, in view of the circumstances, that will not be possible. Henceforth, you shall have to deal with both my visibility and continual presence."

_Continual?_ "Um… what do you mean, 'continual?'" she mocked his accent agitatedly. She was starting to get beyond pissed.

"I cannot risk letting you out of my sight for an instant, Miss Lewis," he said with sudden intensity. "You do in fact pose a threat – but only to my secrecy. I cannot have you revealing me. I must remain with you to make sure you do not." He stood very suddenly and turned to face her, looking directly down his perfect nose at her like she were an insect.

"So… so what you're saying is…" she clenched her jaw, "you're here to stay… indefinitely? Like… basically until you whenever the fuck you want?" her voice rose higher and higher as realisation dawned. _He was going to stick around, _constantly, _and follow her _everywhere? _Jesus Cheese Sauce! "_But – but that's ridiculous!" she cried out, her face scrunched up in complete disgust. "How the fuck am I supposed to keep _your _bloody secret, _and _do my job for fucking _S.H.I.E.L.D. _without looking suspicious? And on top of it all, deal with _you_ – the most evil, insensitive, callous, deceitful—"

But she couldn't finish because suddenly he was right over her – his face but a hair's-breadth from hers. She felt her heart freeze as she saw his face; his eyes flames of rage and his jaw so tight she thought it would break. She watched as the muscles on his face tensed bitterly

"Know this, _mortal," _his voice was death itself, "Your qualms and inhibitions are _no concern of mine_. I have no misgivings _whatsoever_ when it comes to killing you. Keep that in mind before you dare to insult me again." And with that he drew back, so ominously that Darcy let out a tiny squeak of complete terror.

_Oh, shit… …_

She started shaking and tried to tear her eyes away, but she couldn't. She felt like a deer in the headlights about to be completely pulverised by an eight-wheeler. _Curse my tongue! _She really needed to reign in her words.

She realised all too late that she'd been pretty horrible. _I mean, even if what I said about him were true, it was still pretty harsh._

She kept watching him cautiously. He was looking away from her now, his fists clenched and his jaw-muscles pulsing. With a start she noticed a film over his eyes, making them glisten in the dim light, almost like he were about to…

_Woah…_

"H—hey… look," she said suddenly. "…I…I'm sorry."_ Holy shit is he… gonna cry? Fuck me._

She stood up awkwardly, shuffling over to him. He was a complete statue, refusing to respond. So she reached out gingerly with her hand to touch his shoulder.

His reaction was strange. He flinched like he'd been burned and turned to face her – his face torn between complete shock and bitter anger. She froze, eyes wide.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He watched her warily, that strange expression still manifest on his features. But after a century of studying her face, he finally seemed to calm down. She hoped she looked sympathetic enough, and not like she was about to shit herself from fear.

He sighed, then composed his features, and he was suddenly that same aloof, disinterested Loki she knew. The mask in place, he cleared his throat.

"I … need sustenance," he said softly. "And a place to sleep. This bed shall suffice, but I do not think your… _Nutella, _will be adequate," he scrunched his nose up at the jar and Darcy gasped – the outburst all but forgot.

"How dare you speak about my baby that way," she raced over to pick it up and started stroking it. "You haven't even tried any, you judgemental dick."

He watched her cautiously, then furrowed his brow, "I suppose you are correct… I cannot make a judgement without first trying it." And he was suddenly in front of her – _he seriously needs to stop doing that whole zapping around thing without warning me. It's giving me a headache – _and he placed a thin finger into the jar. Darcy watched on in anticipation as he raised the lump of chocolate on his finger to his thin, pale lips and… sucked.

_Oh god… Nutella and pianist fingers and perfect mouths and sucking and… I think I need a change of underwear._

But before she could gain control of her raging sexual-frustration, Loki suddenly gasped. His eyes widened into two huge, green saucers, and he suddenly looked like a five-year-old. With intense vigour, he snatched the jar off her and proceeded to shovel the brown goop into his mouth. His hand became a blur as he shovelled faster and faster, Darcy staring on in horror.

And then the jar was empty. _Completely _empty. Even she, queen of scraping the bottom of the pot, couldn't get _that much _Nutella out of _one jar. _He sucked on his finger, tasting the last of the chocolatey goodness, and a blissful smile passed across his face.

She let out a small laugh, "…adequate enough for you?" she asked.

He moaned in pleasure and she tried not to think about that too much. "I require another," he said simply, placing the empty plastic jar back in her hands. "In fact, I require many. Where do they grow this _Nutella_?"

Darcy just laughed, shaking her head in awe. "Sorry bro, but the shops are all shut. You'll have to wait until morni—" but he suddenly disappeared before she could finish _What the hell?_

After about ten seconds, however, he returned…

With a basket

_Full_

Of Nutella.

She may or may not have squealed uncontrollably.

"Holy _shit_!" She yelled, watching him place the _mountain _of chocolate onto her apartment floor. "Super-villain or not, you are now my _new favourite person." _She squealed like a school-girl and went to caress her mountain of drugs.

He watched her curiously, "Well… I suppose I could share one or two with you, Miss Lewis. But understand the rest are mine."

"Nuh uh," she said, standing up to fold her arms indignantly. "Now way hombre, you stay in my house? You pay up. And by pay up I mean weekly deposits of hazelnut-chocolate into _my _account," she gestured to her stomach. "Comprende?"

He blinked. "Miss Lewis… that is not your decision to make. My staying with you is not a two-way negotiation—"

"I'll let you sleep in my bed?" she offered.

"Miss Lewis, like I said—"

"I promise I won't tell anyone that you're here?"

"Again, not your deciding—"

"I'll let you have control of the remote, _and_!" she added before he could speak, "I'll even let you have some of my ice-cream stash."

He froze then, slightly intrigued "Ice-cream? What is ice-cream?"

"Yeah. Ice-cream. It's even _better _than Nutella. And I always get the _best _flavours. If you don't pay up weekly, then you won't be able to have any."

He pursed his lips and she tried not to burst into hysterical laughter. He was actually being serious with this conversation. He was ridiculous.

"You have a deal," he offered his hand. Slightly swooning, she touched it, then shook it gently. And believe it or not, she flashed her a toothy grin.

"To a long and healthy business venture," he said suddenly, still grinning. It was so infectious Darcy felt her cheeks hurt. _Did he have bi-polar or something? One minute he's threatening to kill me, the next he's grinning like an idiot._

"Listen… uh… Loki…" she rubbed the back of her neck, "I know… you're supposed to be the bad guy here, but I… shouldn't have said all that shit stuff about you. I'm sure you're just…" she bit her lip, trying to search for the word.

He hummed a low laugh then finished for her; "misunderstood?" She blinked – was he mocking her?

"Did you think I needed _pity _Miss Lewis? That I was simply someone in need of another to _understand _me? Misunderstood, lonely, emotionally scarred?" He laughed then, a very bitter laugh. "I _am _the bad guy. The villain. And very soon everyone on this Aesir-forsaken planet will know that."

And Darcy was suddenly hit by the full power of his very devious, very mischievous trade-mark smirk, which left her feeling both unbelievably turned-on, and shittingly terrified.

"O—okay…" she breathed. "Cool. Whatever suits, man." She ran her fingers through her hair.

He moved to open another jar of Nutella and sat back down on the couch gracefully. Not sure what to do, she moved to join him.

_Well this is pretty damn awkward…_

"Oh and Miss Lewis?" he said mid-lick, his finger poised in front of his mouth. "Understand that you cannot back out of our deal. No one must know of my presence here. If you break that deal, I'll make your life a living hell."

_Holy shit, I believe you. _His eyes were a green fire, burning into her. But his smile was that of a school-boy.

She kinda liked it, in a very, _very_ twisted way.

"Uh… sure, yeah. Nutella's more important to me than S.H.I.E.L.D. anyways," and she turned to flick to DVD on.

The similar images flickered across the screen, but she wasn't paying any attention. Today had been a complete cluster-cuss. First the café, then the cube, then meeting Loki and discovering she had some weird ability to see through his spell. And now she'd learnt he was practically going to _live _with her until Odin knows when, and provide her with seemingly endless Nutella every week, as well as glorious eye-candy and permanent sexual-frustration.

She couldn't decide if her life was going to be a living hell, or an earthly paradise.

She sighed.

_Probably both._


	5. Chapter 5

**Skel: **_**frakkyfire -**_ _**He totally is a sex god of sexy sexiness! Which I took on board and elaborated on in this chapter tehe. **_

_**Poor Darcy, she doesn't know what she's getting herself into.**_

_**And neither does Loki actually, come to think of it.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

Loki's double lay hidden in the shadows of Erik Selvig's caravan, his eyes scanning the cramped space slowly. The real Loki was still sitting on the couch enjoying his new found Midgardian delicacy, but in reality, his consciousness was split into facets as his doppelgangers snooped and poked around the S.H.I.E.L.D. compound undetected.

What he had neglected to tell Darcy before was his other, very pertinent reason for remaining with her. He needed to ensure first hand that she did not discover his doubles, and the most efficient way to do this was by tailing her. If she knew just how far he'd infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D.'s intelligence, her reaction would be catastrophic. Not only would he have to deal with her rage, but he'd have to make sure she didn't run straight to Fury and expose him. Although he could quite easily make sure it was impossible for her to do so with magic, he didn't trust his slim chances. If she could deflect his invisibility spell, who knows what other spells she could resist?

Thus, he wanted to avoid, at all costs, any motivation for her to reveal him, which meant one of his new top priorities was keeping her oblivious. Three of his doppelgangers were on the same floor as her, fishing through other apartments. But he was keeping a close eye on them while maintaining a normal façade as he sat with her.

His most important double was in Selvig's caravan. He now focused most of his attention to it, watching through its eyes and forcing his consciousness to be completely immersed in its surroundings.

Not for the first time, he cursed himself profusely. His blunder with the note was both pathetically careless and painfully juvenile. One of the first things he'd learnt as a boy was how to cover his tracks seamlessly. This mistake was not only ridiculously simple, but calamitously destructive; Selvig's discovering of the note meant that the whole of S.H.I.E.L.D. was on high alert. They knew someone was infiltrating their systems, which put his whole plan in jeopardy.

_And all because of this stupid girl, _he thought. He briefly allowed himself to return to her, studying her profile meticulously. _Such a distraction for someone so weak. _

When he had decided to follow Steve Rogers as part of his infiltration, he'd left one of his doppelgangers with Selvig, making sure the researcher was completely unconscious. He'd knocked him out with a calculated sleeping spell, so that he knew exactly when he'd wake, and he'd then thrown his consciousness into the double so that he could monitor him. All of this was to ensure he was prepared to manage Selvig when he finally awoke.

However he had not planned for any intrusion on this plan. Completely oblivious and safely focusing his attention on keeping all of his doubles alert, Darcy's interruption had thrown him entirely.

It was her _eyes. _The moment she'd caught him in her gaze it was like everything froze. And it literally did – all of his doubles, which he'd been trying to maintain simultaneously, faltered as this normal, human girl discovered him. He was _supposed _to be invisible. Nobody else had noticed him steal into the café and take a seat, materializing a cup of coffee and a newspaper in his hand to pass the time. Nobody else had made eye-contact with him like she had.

And so for the first time in a long time Loki had been caught out, and completely paralysed with shock – which only served to make him even more astonished as he hadn't been that surprised in such a long period of time. He wasn't one to be played or deceived. He could read people like open tomes.

But obviously not Miss Lewis. She'd intruded on his world and ruined absolutely everything.

So it was no surprise that all of his doubles managed to falter completely in that one moment. And it was no surprise that his most important double forgot to destroy the note he'd foolishly made. And it was no surprise that Selvig awoke and deduced something was wrong, then ran straight to Fury, without any obstruction.

Loki sighed. _All thanks to her. _

She was laughing now, at some farce on the screen. She'd briefly referred to it as a _TeeVee – _a ridiculous name. He didn't understand the spell which projected images onto the box – nor did he understand the appeal. Why would you want to view something on a little box when you could just as easily observe people in reality? Or read a book?

He sighed internally, reaching for his next pot of Nutella. Qualms aside, he was content with his Nutella. It made his being here bearable.

As he sucked on another glorious hunk of chocolate, he caught Darcy watching him. Turning to regard her he quirked his brow.

"Can I not enjoy my meal in peace?" he asked.

She made a strange noise at the back of her throat and turned back to face the screen, a curious smile flickering on her lips. "S—sorry it's just… oh don't worry," she drew her knees up about her and hugged them.

_This girl was so peculiar. "_What is it now, Miss Lewis?" he asked impatiently.

"I said. Don't. Worry." _Stupid, stubborn girl._

"Miss Lewis…" he growled and she made that strange noise again.

"Fine," she fiddled with a strand of auburn hair which curled across her collar-bone. "It's just … well … have you taken a look at yourself lately? You've got some seriously sexual mannerisms. If you care at all for my mental wellbeing, you'll keep it in check. Seriously," she pouted at the screen, visibly forcing herself not to look at him.

His brow shot up so high his eyes started to hurt. _What on earth?_

"Sexual mannerisms…?" he asked quietly. He was utterly confused. And frankly, rather embarrassed. _Does she mean to say she finds my behaviour _sexual_? How bizarre._

"Yes!" she was getting impatient, and frustrated. She hugged her knees tighter and glared through her brow at the _Teevee. _When he didn't reply after a while, she looked back to him.

"It's shit like this," she said, suddenly producing her finger. He watched on in horror and uneasiness as she placed the finger in her mouth _very _sensuously, fellating it mercilessly with some hideously desirable expression on her face. He squirmed as she slid her finger out of her full lips, giving it a long lick with her tongue.

_Good gods…_

He started. What was he thinking? _Control yourself Loki! This is a _mortal _girl. Completely unattractive in every way. What on earth is the matter with you? _

He cleared his throat and shuffled about in his seat, staring at the screen with wide eyes. "I…I see…" _Do I really look like that? No wonder she was having difficulties._

"Yeah, not so nice is it?" _I beg to differ. _"Not to mention the fact that you look like some British Calvin Klein model – even when you're sitting on my shitty couch eating ice-cream. Seriously, are all gods unbelievably attractive?" _Did she hear herself? Did she really just say that without being completely ashamed?_

Loki shook his head. This girl was _definitely _the strangest mortal he'd ever laid eyes on. She spoke her mind to the point of pain. And she didn't seem to care. Not to mention the fact that she had a very poor perception of what was "attractive."

"You are speaking nonsense," he dipped his finger back into the pot, making sure he put it in his mouth in the most _non -_sexualway he could.

"No. I'm not. Surely you get that all the time? You're a fucking Greek Sculpture," she flung her arms around. _Was she always so energetic? It was exhausting._

And she was obviously blind. For someone who had the ability to see through invisibility spells, she was utterly inept at accurate observation.

"You are mistaken, Miss Lewis. It is my brother who has the looks. _I _have intelligence," he grinned deviously, "A far superior trait, I can assure you."

"Thor?" Darcy almost choked, "What are you, a twelve year old girl? Sure he's ripped and stuff… if you like that sorta thing. But he's nowhere near as attractive as you are. His looks are… body-builder, slash surfie dude, slash complete air-head – which is _so _unappealing. You look like a Cambridge Professor. Or Edward Cullen's British cousin."

Loki just blinked. She thought him more attractive than _Thor_? That was … unexpected. Though he didn't understand one word of her Midgardian pop-culture references, he assumed what she'd said had been a compliment. He made a mental note to do some research on this _Edward Cullen _character.

He deliberated about whether he should thank her for her flattery. He couldn't remember someone ever complimenting him on his appearance before - he was very average for a god. Many of the Aesir women had even told him so themselves.

_Strange girl._

He decided not to thank her. He _was _a god after all, so to her he probably did seemappealing. No matter. He owed her nothing, and would not stoop to thank anyone, even if they offered him all the riches of the nine realms. It simply wasn't in his nature.

He cleared his throat, "I have yet to come to terms with your Mortal Colloquialisms. Your words are lost on me," he finished another tub, placing it on the pile of plastic jars by his side.

Darcy sighed. "Whatever dude."

The moving images suddenly finished on the screen, and a meagre song started playing as white words scrolled across the T.V. Darcy jumped up.

"Well … We've watched like… five episodes of Friends and eaten enough Nutella for Africa," she stretched then, "I think that's my cue to kick you off the couch and get ready for bed."

Loki blinked, "But is this not the prime period of the day to engage in social activities?" he asked casually, "I thought mortals could often be found socialising in the evenings; not preparing themselves for bed so early."

Darcy creased her brow, "What? Oh… well… I guess any _other _chick probably would be out on a Sunday night partying and 'socializing,'…but…"

"I'm assuming you are no '_other chick,'" _Darcy stifled a smirk at how strange the words sounded in his proper accent. She sighed.

"No. Unfortunately I'm not."

_She's right there. Though I would not call it unfortunate… _What? Loki furrowed his brow in confusion. Was his mind completely disconnected from him all of a sudden? It seemed to be coming up with thoughts all on its own. And they were _not_ very helpful thoughts.

He realised with a sickening jolt that they were almost completely tuned toward Miss Lewis. He was observing her scrupulously, making mental notes on all of her mannerisms and traits. He'd already deduced she was different from most from the first five minutes of conversation they'd shared. And he found that strangely appealing.

_Stupid mortal girl, interfering with everything. _He ran a hand through his hair slowly.

"So you do not usually go out… is there no one, then, that you would wish to see?" he was genuinely curious.

She made a popping sound with her lips, "Nope. My family sucks. Jane's a hermit. Erik's an old man, and all the S.H.I.E.L.D. guys are workaholics and so straight-edge I'd be worried I'd cut myself if I ever spent too much time with them…"

"I see…" he rubbed his chin. So she was introverted, yet painfully outgoing at the same time? How unusual.

_If I don't stop analysing her soon, I think I shall go insane. What is it about this girl that is so fascinating? _Loki was getting very frustrated now. He had no control over his thoughts whatsoever.

Involuntarily, his lips decided to ask a question he otherwise would have deigned completely superfluous.

"Is there no… partner in your life?" he asked softly.

Darcy froze, her mouth gaping. Slowly she replied; "If by partner you mean a 'boyfriend' then _hell _no. The last guy I went out with was nocturnal. And by nocturnal, I mean all we did was fuck each other senseless all night, then put our relationship to bed during the day. So I've sorta gone off the idea of having a… 'Partner'" she put her hands on her hips. "Why do you give a shit, anyway? My boy-history has nothing to do with you taking over the world."

He was caught. _All-Father help me this girl is quick. _He composed himself and quickly thought up an excuse on the spot.

"I … need to know as much as I can about you, Miss Lewis, seeing as you pose a threat to my world-domination. A significant other could also make things more complicated," he lied casually. His entire face was composed and calm. He _was_ called the God of Lies for a reason.

She watched him for a moment, deliberating, then bought it resignedly. "Whatever… just… not too many personal questions, okay? Not only is it embarrassing for me, but I don't really trust you all that much," she whirled around and made for her bedroom, leaving Loki feeling strangely forlorn.

_Of course she doesn't trust you, _he reassured himself. _You're the God of _Lies. _For Valhalla's sake, pull yourself together!_

He picked up his jar absently, then stopped himself. Maybe there was some strange spell which was infused into this glorious concoction that made his mind wander.

No matter. He wasn't going to give it up even if it were true.

After a moment, Darcy came back in new clothes. Strange, loose attire which gave her no form and had ridiculously childish prints all over it.

He arched his brow; "Surely you are not going to wear _that_?" he sniffed.

Darcy rolled her eyes, "It's not like I'm entertaining anyone in bed," she said, then froze. She sniggered slightly and bit her lip. "Sorry."

Loki tried very hard not to visualise her innuendo. He cleared his throat, "Even in sleep, surely you would be ashamed to wear something as… hideous … as that outfit?"

She narrowed her eyes; "Adventure Time is never hideous. In fact I might just wear this tomorrow to work because it's so fuck-awesome," she stomped over to the couch. "Now scram. I'm tired, and you're starting to bug me again."

He stood slowly. "Are you really going to sleep on… this?" he pointed his snooty nose to the scruffy couch. She ran her palm down her face.

"When you've stopped judging everything I own, would you kindly bugger off? What's with all the snotty questions?" she shoved him gently out of the way, but he could hardly feel her touch as she was far too weak. He just laughed in a sudden moment of amusement.

"Make me," he breathed, ready for some mischief. She was primed for being annoyed – tired and fed up. He smirked with anticipation knowing full well she would not disappoint him.

"Ugh! Bitch, move out the way!" she shoved harder now and he laughed all the more. But she kept trying with little sounds of frustration which were strangely endearing, and Loki found himself grinning widely as she leaned into him over and over.

With a cry of frustration, she pushed with all her might, her feet sliding on the carpet as she struggled. Deftly, Loki sidestepped quickly, letting her fall flat on her face, sprawled out in defeat on the carpet. Loki's lips twitched and then he let the laughter rack him mercilessly and doubled over, guffawing loudly.

"You fucking dick!" She screamed, but to his surprise she turned around with a huge grin on her face. "I'll punch you in the mouth."

"I should like to see you try," he smirked at her.

She sighed, still smiling, "But seriously I'm wasted. Let's piss each other off in the morning, okay? It's like… 11pm and I'm an old lady," she stood and started shooing him towards the bed.

She waved to him and said a husky; "Goodnight," once he was in the bedroom - which sent a strange thrill through him. _Good god, there must be something in that Nutella. I think I am losing my mind._

Suddenly alone as Darcy disappeared behind the separator wall, he looked at the bed with disdain. How was he supposed to get a proper night's sleep on _that_? This mortal had some seriously compromised living conditions.

_Hmm… we'll have to remedy that, _he thought absently. _If I am to be living with her, I cannot live in this squalor._

He suddenly realised he was going to be _living _with her. He'd be seeing her all day, every day, and hear her little "goodnight's" every evening. Despite his indifference towards her, and her somewhat brash and annoying behaviour, Loki didn't mind that idea.

"All-Father help me," he breathed, shape-shifting effortlessly so that he was dressed in his usual sleepwear: complete nakedness.

He was vaguely conscious of the possibility that Darcy may walk in on him with nothing on – but he didn't particularly care. He was never self-conscious - if she had an issue she could close her eyes.

However, he knew he would _definitely _have an issue with _her _sleeping naked. Primarily because he'd had enough distractions for one day.

With a soft groan he lifted the white sheet and rolled onto the lumpy bed. In an effort to try and not visualise Darcy completely naked, he began furiously planning how he would redecorate this horrid place.

After a moment, he brought himself back to the task at hand. Still aware of his doppelganger in Selvig's caravan, he allowed his original to fall into a blissful sleep, while he threw his consciousness into the double. He had to perform a faultless memory enchantment once Selvig returned, so that he would forget crucial information and thus no longer pose a threat to his plans.

_All in a day's work, _Loki thought as his original drifted into a rare, peaceful sleep while his double kept watch.

* * *

><p><strong>Skel: <em>ah so much fun! so what's the verdict, people? i thank you profusely for your encouragement - it is, quite frankly, pixelated gold :)<em>**


	6. Chapter 6

**Skel: **_**Sorry it's taken so long guys. Usually I'm writing every second of the day, but life has unfortunately intervened. Not that I have a life… but anyway.**_

_**This chapter sort of wrote itself I didn't really know where it was going… I started with an idea and then it just went 'nah, actually I'm going to do this…' so…forgive me if it seems a little… convoluted. **_

_**I also wrote it over a few days, so my writing style sorta morphed into different themes depending on my mood, haha, annoying.**_

_**Anyhow, thank you for your kind words lovely readers. Feel free to throw some not so kind ones in there too if you're so inclined :D**_

___**And an incredibly huge thank you to Frakkyfire who has helped me immensely. Thanks to her, this story has been edited, refined, and produced for your reading pleasure in a much better way.**_

_**Enjoy :)  
><strong>_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six<strong>

After lying on the couch with a sore back for far too long, Darcy decided it was high time she had a shower. She'd been putting it off as long as she could, making as many excuses as possible. But the main reason was that she dreaded setting foot in that ominous bedroom.

She couldn't believe last night had actually happened. And the fact that she'd even _enjoyed _it was almost too much for her to handle. What the hell was wrong with her? This was Loki – The God of Mischief and Lies, here to take over the freaking world for Odin's sake, and here she was enjoying bloody Nutella and couch-banter like they were the best of friends.

Sitting up groggily, she attempted to give herself a massage with her knuckles. Her back was _killing _her, which only made her resent him all the more more for taking her bed, even if she had suggested it. She regretted the deal now, in every way. But of course Darcy would never tell _him _that.

Slumping forward and bringing herself relatively upright, she made her way to the wall which hid her bed from view. _Why does the bathroom have to be through the bedroom? Why?_

As she rounded the corner blearily she caught sight of Loki's sleeping form, draped across the bed with the sheets scrunched up around him. _Huh… he must have kicked them all off in his sleep. _Groggily,_ s_he continued on, hardly noticing him.

She shut the bathroom door behind her, and started to undress, trying in vain to keep her eyes open. She tried to avoid looking at her hideous reflection in the mirror – even after a good night's sleep she looked like Dracula and Frankenstein's deformed baby.

_I need some serious coffee action…_

After a few seconds, reality started making sense. She thought about Loki, sleeping but a few feet away from the door which separated them… he'd looked so peaceful as he lay there…

With a sudden jolt, her mind made sense of the memory. Loki… had kicked off all the sheets… and was now lying… _completely naked_… across her bed. She gasped.

Sprinting to open the door she burst out and found him there, his almost translucent skin pale against the crisp sheets. He was lying on his front with his face pressed into the pillow as he hugged it to him with his broad, sinewy arms. She allowed her eyes to trail the rest of his perfect form, flowing along his curves and sharp edges like he were some piece of artwork installed in her bedroom.

She tried not to make any sounds which might wake him up, but the shock overtook her, and she let out a little squeak of amazement.

His green eyes flashed open. Then widened.

With another sickening jolt, reality interrupted yet again. She remembered she'd been halfway through undressing, and was now standing topless with her _Adventure Time _pants being the only thing keeping her from complete nudity. He sat up now, his mouth gaping.

With another squeal she flung around and escaped into the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it, then yanking the shower on so that she almost broke the handle off.

_Oh my god, oh my god, that did not just happen. _She slammed her hand against her forehead. "Stupid, stupid, stupid perv!" she cried.

She was vaguely aware of some seductive laugh coming from behind her, and she flung her eyes open, only to see Loki in the mirror standing behind her.

Completely.

Starkers.

"AAARRGGGHHH!" she screamed loudly, racing to cover her chest with her arm.

"_What the fuck are you doing get the hell out of here!" _she made to push him, but realised her hands were busy. He had a ridiculous smirk on his face, completely unashamed that _everything _was on display for her to see.

She was caught when her eyes foolishly strayed down south. _Oh… wow… NO! Eyes off the perv's package!_

"Miss Lewis, I do believe you are blushing…" he said darkly, moving closer towards her. She was suddenly pinned against bathroom sink as his arms caged her.

"Have you never seen a real man before?" he hummed and she gulped as his bare chest moved closer towards her. _He's so skinny… and muscular… and fit… and—and—and…_

She'd lost the ability to both speak and think. Everything was a hot blur. She blamed it on the shower which was still running, but her body knew it was definitely something else.

"Hmmm… interesting," he moved his hand to play with a loose strand of her hair, twirling it around his finger absently. "I had not expected _this _reaction…" his voice was low and husky with sleep. She whimpered.

"_Very_1 interesting," he grinned. "Think of this as payback for rudely waking me," and with that he winked and Darcy felt everything turn to liquid.

"Speaking of payback, I recall a few misdemeanours from last night which I believe require some… appropriate justice," he smirked at her. "Be on your guard, Miss Lewis. I am in the mood for some mischief today…" and with a seductive laugh, he vanished.

Stuck in the steamy room with nothing but pyjama pants on, Darcy attempted to control her every urge to chase after him and jackhammer him into the ground with her groin. She felt like she'd been set on fire. His smoky eyes, his utterly lickable skin… and his _voice. _That deep resonating sound which was made all the sexier thanks to that strange magic that happens to guys' voices in the morning…

_Jesus Cheese Sauce._

In a moment of reflection, Darcy tried to make sense of her life. With a jolt of fear, she realised her life was now completely out of her control, and that she was now at the mercy of the most mischievous – and sexiest – god in all of the nine realms.

She also realised she didn't particularly mind.

"All-Father save me…"

* * *

><p>The cafeteria was a hive of suited bees - very serious, determined bees who ordered bacon and eggs like they were issuing a death warrant. Darcy stood at the door, wondering if she should even bother.<p>

She allowed her eyes to wander sideways. Despite Loki's warning, she couldn't help but be utterly aware of his presence. Not only did he stick out like a naked grandma at a funeral, but he was also _way _too invasive and _way _too tall. He stood but a few inches behind her, tailing her every step like a shadow.

And the morning's events didn't aid her in her concentration. She couldn't help but imagine his bare skin under his clothes…

She sighed and hissed under her breath to him; "This isn't going to work. How can I be inconspicuous when you hover like a math teacher?"

Loki frowned, "Your opinion does not matter. I hover how I want."

Darcy groaned and decided to ignore him completely. She'd well and truly gotten over last night's episode and no longer thought this whole scenario was going to be at all fun. He was a complete asshole; there was nothing else to it.

Trudging along in her jeans and t-shirt, she greeted the cafeteria lady and ordered her usual: no toast, no eggs, no nothing – just bacon. The glorious (albeit excessive) pile of magnificence on her plate beamed up at her as she turned away. _Such beauty. Such art. Such _flawless _perfection_.

Loki just quirked his brow at her meal choice. "Isn't that a tad… too much?" he said in a tone which made Darcy's blood boil.

She ignored him, and stomped over to her usual table. _Jane should be here soon, _she thought, looking around at how empty the table was compared with the rest. Loki sat down opposite her, as casually as any of the other agents in the room, and Darcy had to purposefully look everywhere else _but _his face.

After a long moment of silence, Loki cleared his throat. "You can speak, Miss Lewis. No one is paying any attention to you."

She snorted. "Situation normal," she said sullenly. "I don't want to speak with you."

"I wish for you to speak," he said adamantly.

"I don't care!" she cried out, catching a few concerned glances from the agents around her. But she got the feeling they were used to her strange behaviour anyhow, and so they ignored it.

"Why the explosive temper, Miss Lewis? Last night you were almost agreeable," he grinned knowingly. _Is he looking for a punch in the stomach? 'Cause he'd gonna fucking get one, Norse God or not._

"You are the match to my fuse, buddy," she said through gritted teeth. "Not only do you take my bed, invade my privacy and insist on following me around two inches behind me all the _freaking_ time, but you're also a complete dick and somehow feel the need to make seriously aggravating remarks _constantly, _which you _know _will piss me off to no end." She folded her arms, "So yeah, I've got a bloody explosive temper. I also had _no _sleep last night because I had to sleep on the bloody couch. Thanks to _you._"

"If I recall correctly, Miss Lewis," Loki said softly, ignoring the hatred rolling off her in thunderous waves, "it was _you _who opted to sleep on the couch. I believe it was because I promised you an endless supply of Nutella – which I will continue to do until I am finished with you._ That _is a promise."

She sucked in a deep breath, "Nutella or not, I'm in this mood because of _you. _So don't piss me off any more, or I _will _punch you square in the gut. Or kick you in the nuts with my steel-caps," she stabbed her bacon evilly.

But Loki just chortled softly - which Darcy tried not to enjoy _so _much - and gazed at her very intensely. With a dark look, he decided to be wicked:

"Still making idle threats?"

"Ugh!" she shoved the bacon in her mouth. _Whatever, I bet my magic ninja skills could slay you. Stupid, inconveniently sexy god of assholes._

He smirked then, watching her. "You are quite the specimen, Miss Lewis. I think, once I have dominated your pathetic little planet, I shall keep you," his smile widened deviously. "You can… _entertain _me," he breathed.

She just stared at him in disgust. And horror. And—and unveiled lust. _Good… gods. That smirk is far too delicious for anyone's good. Why am I so turned on? Get a hold of yourself Darc! Don't think about it!_

Darcy squirmed in her seat, forcing her sexually-oriented, rather filthy mind from imagining his domination skills. _Fuck my life._

Slightly put out that she offered no response, Loki decided to have some more fun. Casually he reached across with his sinewy fingers, not taking his eyes off her. Completely captivated by his suddenly smouldering stare, Darcy just gulped as he lifted a piece of bacon up in his hand.

And then he cocked his head and bared his perfect teeth at her, flicking his fingers. Effortlessly, the piece of food zoomed across the room and landed exactly on Agent Coulson, smacking him square on the back of his neck but a few tables away.

Darcy's eyes widened into huge, fearful saucers as Coulson turned around slowly to face her. With soft, menacing ease, he picked up the ammunition - his somewhat calm features inspecting the piece of bacon with slight confusion. And then he looked to her and gave her the most kind, most gentle smile she'd ever seen.

A smile that said: "Excellent job, Darcy Lewis. You have just made your worst enemy."

She shivered. She was going to be killed. They were going to find her body in a bag cut up into a million pieces.

She was suddenly aware of Loki's shaking shoulders. He was covering his face with his hand, chuckling in earnest. _Oh - _hell - _no._

"You unbelievable cock," she hissed, narrowing her eyes.

He removed his fingers from over his eyes and stared at her, still shaking slightly with laughter.

And then he grew very serious. In a sudden movement he leaned in towards her, staring down his nose at her with his deep, green eyes. She leaned away in sudden unease, feeling that same strange sensation in her stomach as she stared back at him... _Why is he always bloody doing that? Does he know how it affects people? I need to carry extra underwear around with me for good measure. _She gulped.

"As amusing as your insults and threats are, Miss Lewis, they are both fruitless and juvenile," he sniffed. "I'll have you know that they will not go unpunished."

_Gulp. _Her eyes darted around. _Jesus… you can punish me anytime you want. _Having his face this close made her everything quiver with hormone-packed lust. His eyes were low and burning, his lips set in a soft pose of seduction – slightly open and _totally _kissable. And his height made her feel like she were completely vulnerable as she bent under him… which only brought unhelpful images into her mind.

When she didn't reply, he let out a low laugh, then hummed:

"Let the games begin."

* * *

><p>After breakfast – for which Jane conveniently didn't show up – Darcy and Loki made their way to Jane's office. Darcy had attempted to ignore Loki's snide remarks as they'd wandered along the corridors. She was <em>not <em>going to be bested by this jerk. She would _not_ lose her cool; that was exactly what he wanted.

She was consumed with thoughts of self-control. But after a while she found a peace in creating a mental list of ways to kill a Norse god without it being illegal. Seeing as there were most likely no laws with regard to Norse gods, pretty much everything was permitted, meaning she could be very creative.

_Number five: Sever manhood then watch him bleed to death… oh wait, that probably wouldn't work 'cause he's a god and all… whatever…_

_Number four: Somehow magic a huge blender into existence and blend him into a delicious green smoothie. Mmmm… yummy… digressing!_

_Number three: Somehow bring Thor back and force Loki to watch him give a speech on how awesome he is for the rest of eternity. Muahaha, that'll kill him a thousand times over._

_Number two: Have Nick Fury death stare him to death. With Coulson behind him giving him the "school-boy" grin of doom. Yikes. _

_Number one—_

They arrived before she could come up with something decent. Still completely focused on her task, she was a little thrown when she saw the imposing Nick Fury standing in the middle of the room, hands behind his back as he observed Jane working on her laptop.

Loki stiffened at her side, then bent to whisper in her ear: "Remember our deal…" he hissed.

She gulped. "Hey Nick," she tried to mask the shake in her voice. "H—how's things?"

He narrowed his one good eye at her, but didn't reply. _Okay... cool, you can be rude if you want. You know what, that's completely fine with me._

"Hey Darc," Jane said cheerily. "Just set up at your usual desk. I've given you some files for editing."

Happy to have something reasonably preoccupying to do, Darcy slumped into her swivel chair. _Yay, swivel chair! _She spun around a few times, just for fun. _Weeee—_

"Having fun there Miss Lewis?" Fury said articulately from behind her. She froze and immediately hunched over, opening her laptop and throwing herself into her work.

"S—sorry boss," she said quietly.

She was vaguely aware of some musical sound coming from beside her. Darcy's eyes darted to her left and she saw Loki sitting casually on the end of her desk, legs folding and hands poised as he grinned like an idiot at her misfortune.

She glared at him, then mouthed "I will piss on everything you love," but he didn't quite seem to catch it. _Whatever. It's the thought that counts._

The files were on a USB, so she flung it into the computer and started reading over the files. She allowed her mind to become lost in the science jargon crap of which she understood about three letters, trying to forget the fact that the most sexiest sex-god of all sexdom was sitting on her desk, his leg brushing against hers as he tapped his foot. She knew he was trying to piss her off, but she steeled herself and ignored it.

After a few moments of tinkering away on her keyboard – and more mental murder – Loki stopped. Triumphantly, she attempted a sly glance at him, but was shocked to find he was gone.

_What the hell? _She turned around fully – he was nowhere to be seen.

A slow smile spread across her face. _Fuck yes! He must have gotten bored and buggered off. Awwww yeeeeeeeaaaaaaaa—_

But she was cut short. In her joy, she'd swivelled her chair around again, and turned to face the backs of Fury and Jane. It was then that her heart stopped and her stomach dropped.

"Shit…" she whispered.

Loki was standing but a hairs-breadth from Fury's back, towering above him with a subtle, yet intense smirk of complete mischief on his face.

_Shit, shit, shit, shitting, shit, mcshittington!_

She couldn't do anything. If she moved or breathed weirdly, or even thought about something remotely cube related, Fury would be on her like a hawk. So she had to sit there, consumed with mind-numbing fear, and not move a muscle.

Loki looked towards her now with a wicked grin and suddenly clicked his fingers.

The first thing Darcy noticed was that her chair had started to roll. She gripped onto the sides and let out a little frightened yelp as it flung her forwards.

The second thing she noticed was that she was suddenly staring at a pair of Batman boxers.

_What. The. _Fuck.

Above her she saw the back of Nicholas Fury's skull, currently frozen. Mouth gaping, she watched as he turned, like some giant of death, to stare down at her with a huge, completely evil eye. His pupil was miniscule, the whites of his eye glaring and huge. In any other circumstance, she would have laughed at his comic-book expression…

…were she not shitting herself.

Loki was behind her now, laughing so loud she was surprised they didn't notice. She was scrunched up in the office chair, trying to make herself as small as possible – trying to escape the fury of Fury which looked as powerful as the Apocalypse.

He was standing in nothing but his boxers, with his pants on the floor and his bare legs showing. Ominously, and with intense control, he bent down, picked up his pants, then looked at Darcy as if she were the Anti-Christ.

_Fuck! No! It's not me - Loki is the Anti-Christ! _

As she slowly accepted her fate, she realised this was the second time her life had been threatened by someone's facial expressions.

_Chicken-shit on a stick, I am going to die._

After an eternity of silence, Nick Fury cleared his throat and smiled. Actually _smiled. _

_Chicken-shit on a stick, he is going to burn me alive._

"Solitary confinement," was all he said, reaching down to grip her arm and hoist her up out of her seat. "A day and a night, I think," and he grinned again, tightening his grip on her arm. She winced in pain.

The strangest thing happened then. Loki, who had been a ways behind her, was now right by her side. And he was furious - bitterly so. She was more afraid of his rage than Fury and Coulson's combined.

She stared at him, mouth wide, and saw he was eying Fury blackly, like hewas going to burn _him_ at stake. A thousand times over.

"Get your hands off her," he growled and Darcy furrowed her brow. _Um… bro? They can't hear you…_

But Fury released her, and she turned to see that his face had turned a strange shade of grey as he paled. His lips were quivering and his one good eye was wide with fear.

"What the hell…?" she turned to Loki. His jaw was clenched – the muscles there tensing and his mouth was a thin, hard line. He was still staring Fury down with his dark, green stare as Darcy just watched on in total shock.

_He revealed himself? But… why?_

Before anything else could happen, she felt the world spin around her again as Loki gripped onto her waist tightly. The air whipped her hair around and they were suddenly back in her apartment.

"Wha…" she mumbled, then felt the pressure of everything suffocate her. Letting the nausea overtake her, she felt her world turn black as she fainted. The last thing she remembered was a strong grip as she fell into some statue, and a cool touch on her forehead.

Then nothing.


	7. Chapter 7

**Skel: **_**Here it is, chapter 7. And a very Merry Christmas to all you Lodar lovers – this is my inadequate present to you all. May Santa bring you all much more adequate presents this year – such as doppelgangers of Loki to stuff him in your stockings :D**_

_**And another huge thanks to Frakkyfire for making this piece so much better – without her this would be a grammatical disaster**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven<strong>

Loki sat on the end of Darcy's bed with his head in his hands. Any sense of logic that he had once possessed was now completely lost, only to be replaced by a disturbing uneasiness. The only time he could ever remember feeling so frustrated was when his father had told him he was adopted.

He closed his eyes. _Where did that come from? _

There was nothing for it - his mind was lost to him. Ever since he had arrived here it had been lost to him. He'd been consumed by these insane notions – impulses and urges which he'd thought to be dormant and hoped would remain so for the rest of his life. His all-consuming hatred and rage seemed to have dimmed in the wake of this strange spell which had been cast over him. Not to mention the fact that he hadn't been paying proper attention to any of his doubles, and the information they brought to him was practically non-existent. All of his plans to spy on the _Avengers_1 team and infiltrate Selvig's research had been poorly neglected, too.

Loki sighed. _Why this sudden change?_

Darcy was still asleep behind him, completely at peace. He caught himself watching her, and started to feel his mind wander beyond his control.

He noticed that she juxtaposed him in almost every way - what with her bolshy attitude and strange words. And even now, as he turned to gaze into her face, she modelled perfect peace and calm – totally unconcerned and without a care in the world.

His exact opposite.

He could remember a time when that had been him. Indifferent and aloof. But over the past few days he'd become… almost paranoid. He thought about _everything _– the miniscule details about things he should have no care for: Darcy's thoughts, her strange ability to see him, what her opinion was of him, why she did the things she did.

"Darcy…" he whispered. Without cause or reason he found himself moving towards her.

Whenever he was pensive – which seemed to be constantly now – he felt something about her trigger a response in him. It was a strange, involuntary response which he'd felt since the café. A pull which made him do things, and say things, and _feel _things…

_Since when did the God of Lies feel anything? _He thought bitterly. _I am a monster._

And that ridiculously poor judgement with Nicholas Fury was a completely irrational decision. Where on earth had that come from? Loki was not one to act upon impulse unless it served a purpose. What purpose was there in protecting Darcy?

_It was to protect my new asset. _He thought, feverishly grabbing at straws. _If she were harmed or put into solitary confinement, her powers would be lost to me. And they may come in very useful in the near future._

_Yes… that's it. That's the only explanation. _He wondered, too, if these unsettling stirrings within him were the result of her strange powers. Along with her ability to see through his spells, she may also possess some inane talent for enchantment.

_And I am definitely enchanted__,_he thought. _Ugh! Enough. _There they were again – those spontaneous thoughts.2 Furious with himself for allowing such a lapse, he turned away from her. His brow was furrowed and his lips were a hard line of frustration as he attempted to reason with himself and his actions.

"Loki…?" Darcy mumbled from behind him. His thoughts broken, Loki spun around and saw her sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes like a child. Without a thought, he smiled softly at her and reached for her upturned hand.

He caught himself, flinching slightly. _It is to satiate her… not because I simply wish to touch her skin__. I__f she feels comfortable with me, she won't run away. She's an asset… remember, she's an asset._

"Darcy," he rubbed her knuckles slowly, "How are you feeling?"

Unaware of his severe internal conflict, Darcy yawned and mumbled, "I bit sideways."3 She sat watching their hands; absently biting her lip as she observed how their pale fingers intertwined.

"Um… Loki4?" she whispered, now staring him straight in the eye. "What… what happened?"

He stiffened, his eyes darting away from her face to watch the floor. "What do you mean?"

"Why did you stop Fury?" she breathed.

He swallowed. _A very good question._ "I… didn't like his attitude. Not to mention the fact that by frightening him, I knew I would irritate him beyond measure," he quirked a smile.

She seemed to buy it, though her face was still suspicious. "You know what this means now, don't you?" she said.

He sighed, "Nothing I do is without a purpose, Miss Lewis." _L__et's hope she buys this lie too._

Before she could reply, there was an urgent knock at the door.

"That's them," he said seriously, standing up straight and letting go of her hand. He narrowed his eyes for a moment then seemed to relax. "They just wish to see if you are okay… and… they wish to ask you something," he arched his brow. "Interesting… very interesting indeed." He looked at her, and found her staring with her mouth open and eyes wide.

"Y—you5 can read their minds?"

He frowned, "I've always been able to read minds, Miss Lewis."

She choked, "_What?_" and shook her head slowly. "S—so… does that mean you can6 read mine?" Her voice was a strangled squeak.

He smiled, ignoring her. After a moment he gestured towards the door. "Are you going to answer it?"

She blinked. "Uh, yeah…" She swung her legs out of bed and fumbled her way towards the door, then hesitated before answering it. She turned back to him.

"This conversation isn't over, buddy."

He just watched her indifferently. With a huff she yanked the door open. It was Fury and Jane.

"Hey guys," she said cautiously, "What's up?"

"Darcy!" Jane leapt onto her and squeezed her tightly. She eventually pulled away and gripped her shoulders. "How are you? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Jane." she smiled sheepishly. "Really."

Fury cleared his throat, "Miss Lewis…"

"Hey boss. What's the problem? Need more files edited?" She attempted a smile.

Fury frowned, "Miss Lewis. The real reason we're here is… well…"

"Don't worry," Darcy sighed resignedly, "I know why you're here." She looked back at Loki with a look that said "This is your mess; fucking fix it."

Loki just smirked.

"Miss Lewis?" Fury invited himself inside. _All good, Fury. No need to ask. Waltz on in._

He was standing in front of Loki now, who was conveniently invisible. Darcy narrowed her eyes at him and then he…

_Poked out his tongue._

"Bahahahaha!" Darcy blurted out, doubling over. She caught another glimpse of Loki and he'd composed himself, a little taken aback by Darcy's outburst.

"Darc…?" Jane touched her shoulder, "You okay?"

"Ahhh, it's nothing," she wiped her eyes. "Just… remembering Fury's Batman briefs," she rubbed her eyes again and Fury's nostrils flared.

"Miss Lewis, I don't have any time for games," Fury said crossly with his fists clenched. "Where is he?"

"He?" _Act dumb, Darc._

"Yes, Miss Lewis. The man who teleported you."

"I – I don't know what you're talking about."

"It is quite alright, Mr. Fury," Loki suddenly said, sitting on the end of Darcy's bed, now utterly – heartbreakingly7 - visible. "You need not ask the girl any more questions."

Fury whirled around, suddenly producing two guns from his belt and aiming them straight at Loki's forehead. But Loki didn't even flinch; he simply unfolded his perfect long legs and slunk up to tower above the agent, a constant look of indifference painted all over his pale features.

"Loki…" Fury growled through gritted teeth. He was so tense Darcy could almost see veins popping all over his skull.

"Uh…8 boss…?" Darcy was a little tense too. But mainly because Fury was aiming a gun at Loki's head - and that did strange, very unsettling things to her stomach. "Fury, put the gun down."

"This bitch tried to destroy half of New Mexico!" Fury yelled, not taking his eyes off of Loki. "I will _not_ put the gun down."

"Fury," Jane's voice was a high squeak, "It's9 pointless. He's a god. He's basically immortal like… like—"

"Like Thor, Miss Foster?" Loki smirked knowingly. Jane's eyes widened.

_Eeek ... this is a little too intense._

"Hey guys, hey now, let's all just calm down, okay? I've… I've got Nutella!" With a sudden spark of an idea, Darcy raced into the kitchen excitedly and grabbed a pot from one of the cupboards. She'd set aside an entire shelf just for freaking Nutella. _Nutella _is_ an ambrosia of sorts… maybe it can chill these freaks out._

Loki joined her, flashing in and out of the air in an instant. She started a little, but then continued busying herself with the lid of the new jar, kind of used to his teleporting by now.

"Allow me, Miss Lewis," Loki's fingers brushed against hers as he reached for the lid, too. A hot red flush spread across her cheeks.

Jane stiffened. "Oh no…" she whispered. "Jesus, Darcy, a—are you two…?" She let the question hang.

Trying to ignore the stab of hope the question sent through her chest, Darcy glanced to Fury who was still facing the bed with his guns raised. _I think he's in shock… if secret agent boss-men can go into shock_10_._

"Uh… no. No, nothing like that at all. He's just… chilling here for now…" she realised how ridiculous her words sounded, but decided to roll with it. To her, everything was the norm now. Relatively.

She wondered what Loki made of Jane's insinuation and glanced at him, but he seemed to have ignored it. Or missed the point entirely, which was probably the case. He was a bit slow with things like that.

"Where is Rogers?" Jane said, interrupting her thoughts. Jane's little hand was pressed against her forehead with worry. "Isn't he supposed to be with you all the time?"

Darcy stiffened. _Oh yeah__,__ the Cap__.__C__ome to think of it—_

"He _is_ with her. In a way," Loki said from her side, placing his hand gently on her lower back. She flinched slightly.

"W—what?" Darcy asked.

"I have made sure he's been … occupied," Loki was watching Jane and Fury, who seemed to have found the ability to move. The two were now a few feet away from him, eyes wide and mouths open.

"Occupied… _how_11?" Fury was the personification of his unfortunate last name.

"A simple illusion," he waved his free hand as he stroked Darcy's back softly. "A copy of Darcy is enjoying a cup of coffee with the good Captain as we speak, and he is completely oblivious," Loki grinned. "I _am_ the God of Trickery, after all."

"What?" Darcy was slightly pissed now, "And you didn't tell me?"

"It has only been a few days, Miss Lewis," he looked at her softly now. "I wanted to wait until it was the right moment to inform you."

"A few12 days?" Jane gasped. "What the hell, Darc! You've been with this creep for a few _days_13? Why didn't you tell me?" She looked pretty angry. _Damn_14. 'Pissed off Jane' was a Jane she didn't much like to be around. Along with 'super excited Jane' and 'super sciency nerd-burger Jane' and—

"Miss Lewis, I think you had better come with me," Fury said slowly, moving towards her with his guns still raised.

In an instant Loki flashed into Fury's path, standing over him ominously with a face no longer masked by indifference, but full of agitation.

"Leave. Now." He clenched his jaw. "You have outstayed your welcome."

Fury blinked. "If she has been living with you for a _few days _then we need to run some tests. Interrogate her. She's a fucking liability!"

"All the same, you have outstayed your welcome," Loki growled. He moved closer15 so that his face was just inches away from the agent's incredulous stare. With articulate disdain Loki hissed at him:

"If you touch her again you will regret it profusely."

After a moment, Fury came to his senses and decided to back down. Darcy was watching him cautiously, then her eyes flicked to the Loki statue, which seethed with rage. She didn't really like it all that much. It made her feel16 lonely.

Hoping she could somehow calm him down, Darcy cleared her throat and moved to stand beside him.

"H—hey… listen…" Nervously rubbing the back of her neck, she stuttered, "I—I know Loki's supposed to be17 the super bad guy18 or whatever here but… I—I don't think you need to be so freaked out." She didn't dare meet Loki's gaze, which was now trained on her intensely.

"Darcy…" Jane's voice was strangled and quiet.

"No, hear me out. I gotta say this." She squeezed her hands together tightly. She hated public speaking. She'd rather type out her opinions on Tumblr instead of saying some meaningful crap in public like she was doing now. Regardless, it needed to be said. For her sake and theirs.

And Loki's.

She found a little more confidence when she realised that she did kinda care about the stupid motherfucker.

"Okay," she breathed. "He's… a bit of a dick, sure. But I mean, aren't we all? Sort of? Like... so okay, I haven't murdered anyone or tried to commit planet-scale genocide, but… well… if you think about the level of pressure he has on him, being a prince of the freaking universe with an arrogant airhead for a brother and a Nazi for a dad… well, can you blame him?"

The three members of her little audience stood completely still, eyes bulging out of their skulls. Loki especially was shocked beyond his limits. _This girl…_

She swallowed. _Shit__.__C__rash and burn time… oh god it's the Apocalypse in here_19_…_

"Darcy…" Loki whispered.

"Thor's not an airhead _or _arrogant," Jane said hotly, folding her arms and pouting. She looked like she was going to cry. "Thor would never cause someone to turn so _evil_," she glared daggers at Loki, who hardly noticed.

"Hey!" Darcy cried out, "I get that you're jealous for your boyfriend20, but don't take it out on mine!"

She froze.

_Fuck._

FUCK.

—

"I mean friend boy…" she whispered.

There was an awkward silence to last an age which suffocated everything. Darcy felt like she was going to throw up.

_Never do public speaking. Or even just speaking. Never do that again. Bad idea. Very, very bad__._21

"I think you should leave," Loki eyed the other two22 from Darcy's side. He was very close to her now. Deliciously close. She had a strange feeling like she were some tantrum-throwing child who'd just ruined the birthday dinner, and now the parents were asking everyone to leave.

_I am awkwardness personified. My life is over._

Fury and Jane exchanged a glance, then slowly backed out of the room. This latest revelation was way too much to handle, even for a certified badass like Nicholas Fury.23 Before he disappeared behind the door, however, he turned back.

"This isn't over yet," he growled."I want to have a proper conversation with you," he stabbed a finger at Loki24, and with that he stomped out of the room and closed the door.

Darcy let out a long, heavy sigh. "Jesus Mary mother of Joseph Stalin…" she breathed.

"I think you are in need of a proper Midgardian history lesson," Loki said with a laugh in his voice. "I am quite sure the Virgin Mary was _not _the mother of—"

"Yeah, I know that! It's just a freaking expression."

"I do not believe I came across that expression when I studied Midgardian colloquial—"

"Whatever!" she threw her hands up, turning to face him with her arms folded. "What the hell, dude? I thought you were trying to lay low?"

"There was a… change of plans," he clenched his jaw and Darcy felt that same rage boil in him and roll towards her. _Yeesh… this guy has anger issues._

"O—okay," she furrowed her brow.

There was a tense silence which stretched between them. She hated it. She felt that same loneliness again, like he were purposefully trying to push her away.

After a moment she decided to be gentle.

"Look… Loki. I know we're not all that close and – and that I'm probably the last person you'd wanna talk to about… well, anything, but… if you need an ear to spew into, about anything that's… like, troubling you or—"

"That's quite alright Miss Lewis," Loki said in a low voice, his eyes downcast and his shoulders hunched in a very uncharacteristic pose.

He slumped over and flashed out of sight, reappearing suddenly on the couch as the T.V. flickered to life. Darcy blinked and tried to fight back the strange feeling in her throat. That feeling you get when someone rejects you.

Rejects you in so many ways.

* * *

><p><strong>Skel: <em>Oh also ignore the random numbers, I just couldn't be bothered to delete them.<em> _Chapter 8 coming soon after Christmas!_**


	8. Chapter 8

**Skel: **_**Forgive the slight hiatus! I celebrate Christmas like a maniac**_

_**Without further ado, Chapter 8 **_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight<strong>

- One Week Later -

Darcy sat at her desk with her hand supporting her head, lazily scrolling through the endless pages of numbers and words and equations which meant jack-all to her. Today, everything was particularly meaningless, and so she felt utterly steeped in boredom as she did the exact same things she did every single day.

When she'd agreed to become Jane's full-time assistant, she'd hoped that by working for her – and thus working for S.H.I.E.L.D. – her life would be a little less boring than it had been. When Loki, too, had unexpectedly appeared in her life, she'd felt maybe this would be the moment her circumstances would change for the better.

But now, thanks to his stupidly mopey attitude, her life was even _more _boring than it had been before. Sick of being around him in his pathetic state, Darcy tried to throw herself into the S.H.I.E.L.D. lifestyle in the hope of some rare thrill. In the past week, she'd done everything she could to avoid the mundane turn her life had suddenly taken. She wanted action and adventure and hunky gods falling from the sky, like she was used to. Not this whole wake up, go to work, come home, go to bed routine that she loathed.

By about the third day, Darcy had resorted to options she didn't dare consider before. Options such as spending time with _t__he __c__hoir boy _of all things. She'd asked Loki to quit the charade with the Cap, so that he would go back to guarding her properly. His company was strangely less boring than she'd assumed it would be. He told her interesting stories about the thirties and forties, which was an era that enthralled her. Fancy dresses, smouldering jazz and gentlemanly demeanours made for a relentlessly romanticised era she longed to experience. Having the Cap around indulged those nostalgic wishes, and gave her something else to think about rather than the severe aggravation she felt every time she came home.

_Stupid Loki._

She screwed her eyes shut, rubbing her temples slowly. She needed to stop thinking about him. Every waking minute she worried over him, and got annoyed by him, and felt like murdering him in a million different ways. Even when she was trying to be distracted by something else, he pervaded her thoughts.

"Ugh," she whispered, focusing back on her work. There was a sudden vibration in her pocket and she realised she had a text message. _Who the hell…?_

She flicked her phone out and tapped the screen. She opened the message and saw it was from "Starkie."

_Hey Drinking Buddy, _it read. _I'm in need of some company which is in possession of two eyes. Fury's getting on my nerves so I need to piss him off by disappearing for lunch. I'll pick you up in a few hours – S._

Darcy tried not to squeal with joy. Rendezvous lunch dates with billionaires were on her list of exciting things to distract her from Loki being a dick. _S__weet_!

She'd sought out a few of the other Avengers in the past week. As of last Friday night, Tony Stark was now her new drinking buddy. She let a rare smile escape as she remembered the look on his face when she showed up with a bottle of Savvy and a few DVDs.

"I heard you were an _Arrested Development _fan," she'd said hopefully. After a few astonished moments, he'd lowered his guard and with a mega-watt grin welcomed her inside his freaking palace mansion. He was uncharacteristically friendly for a sociopath. Well… a womanizing sociopath, if that worked.

_That _had been an exciting night. Not only was he unbelievably hilarious and ridiculously narcissistic, but he was also strangely pleasant to spend time with. Although he was 99% chauvinistic pig and 0.5% obsessed with his work, the other 0.5% was genuine kindness which Darcy appreciated.

After they'd finished the Savvy, and another three bottles of rather nice Baileys he said he'd been saving for such an occasion, Darcy had crashed on his super chic – probably super expensive – couch. Apparently Stark had stayed up to watch some _House _after she'd gone to sleep, so he was out cold on the floor by the time Darcy woke in the morning, more alcohol scattered around him. He was her kind of drinking buddy.

That next day hadn't been so bad either, especially when Stark had eventually woken up late in the afternoon. Thatwas _beyond _entertaining. Hungover Tony was almost as frightfully enjoyable as pissed-off Loki…

Darcy sighed. _Loki, Loki, Loki… get out of my head. _Another image of his aloof, disinterested expression filled her mind. She was beginning to think he hated her or something. Hated her for the stupid things she'd said when Fury and Jane had come to her apartment a week ago.

_But surely he can't be that pissed for a whole _week. She let out a breathy laugh. _Actually, he probably can, knowing him. He _did _hold a pretty massive grudge on his brother and father, and then sought revenge with an attempted usurping and mass genocide…_

She knew she really shouldn't be so annoyed by his sudden mood swing. Hell, she really shouldn't care at all about anything to do with him. He was scum of the nine realms according to everyone else. The things he'd done, the hatred he harboured, were all testaments to the evil within him.

Yet she couldn't help worrying…

"Darc?" Jane was talking to her from her usual position – hunched over at a massive computer, ticking away on the keyboard with her reading glasses on. Her voice was high and squeaky. _Nervous Jane? Haven't heard from _her_ in a while__._

"Yeah?" she said slowly, spinning around on her chair and scooting closer to her.

"Have a look at this," she gestured to the screen.

Darcy swivelled around so she could see the huge monitor properly. There was a strange infrared image, with pinks and blues and reds and greens splattered across its face. She vaguely recognised it as an image of three figures running.

"Hey isn't that you?" Darcy said, pointing at the smallest figure. "… And that's me… and Erik. This is from the Bifrost site isn't it?"

"Yes…" she said slowly, her brow creased with concern, "Yes, that's what I'm worried about."

"What do you mean?"

"This is one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s infrared cameras. They were there, Darc. At the site. And they took _this _photo."

"I still don't get what's got you so freaked out. We already knew they'd been tailing us for weeks after we met them." Jane was frantic – close to hyperventilating – and Darcy didn't like it one bit.

"C'mon Darc, you can't see anything strange about this picture? Think about it. There's something very wrong here…"

She looked at the black silhouettes of the three, recognising her own figure amongst them at the back. Yet as she looked closer, she realised Erik's was the exact inverse of his surroundings. All the myriad colours that pitted the environment seemed to fill his silhouette, while Jane and Darcy's remained black.

"Is it… something to do with Erik?" she whispered.

"No! No, Erik's the normal one. We're supposed to look like him, Darc. But it's like we're not giving off any energy… it's like the energy from the Bifrost has sucked it out of us or something."

"What the hell… ?" Darcy scratched the back of her neck, slightly concerned now.

"But why not Erik?" Jane whispered into her hand as her eyes flickered across the image.

"He's the only dude." Darcy offered, bending closer to the screen. "Maybe the Bifrost is a dude and likes sucking girls… " she giggled at her own joke but Jane wasn't very amused.

"I'll have to send this to be screened by someone professional. I don't understand why they didn't notice when they'd first captured the image," she pressed some keys and clicked her mouse and the file zoomed off to Fury and others.

"Speaking of Fury…" Darcy said, biting her lip, "How do you think he is with the whole Loki thing?"

Jane sighed, "The same as all of us I'm sure." She wasn't looking at her. Darcy felt that same strange ache in her chest. Everyone had been a little on edge sine the Loki drama, almost like they blamed her for it. Jane was a little more lenient, along with the Cap and Stark, but everyone else pinned Loki's presence on her. Like _she_ had anything to do with it. The bastard just showed up out of freaking nowhere.

But Jane's response seemed very pointed and Darcy swallowed guiltily.

"I'm sorry Jane," she whispered. "I didn't know what to do…"

"You could have told me for a start," she said, just as softly. Darcy realised she was close to tears. "I thought we told each other everything, Darc."

_Oh… _She wasn't mad at her for harbouring Loki. She didn't blame her. She just wanted to _know._

"Oh, Jane," she bent over and hugged her shoulders warmly. "I'm really sorry. It wasn't like that. I _wanted _to tell you, I just… couldn't."

Jane sniffed and looked up at her best friend, "You couldn't? You mean… Loki wouldn't let you?"

"No," she rested her head on Jane's hair, "He won't."

Jane stiffened.

"Won't…?"

_Oh shit__._

"Uh, I mean 'wouldn't!'" Darcy screwed her eyes shut.

"Darc, he isn't still… _with you _is he?" Jane's eyes were wide and her voice breathy and shaken.

Darcy felt it was time for a lunch break.

"Look Jane, I'm really sorry, I love you and everything, but I promised Stark I'd go to lunch with him and I'm already late so I'll explain it another time okay? Okay, great, see ya!" and with that she raced out the door, shouldering her bulky jacket on as she did so.

_Shit… that could have gone horribly wrong._

"Yes, it could have gone _horribly_ wrong," a very familiar voice hummed in her ear. She shrieked and turned around.

"Loki! What the hell, man? I thought I told you not to sneak up on me!" Darcy folded her arms as she took in her roommate. He was wearing the same dishevelled bathrobe he'd been wearing when she'd left that morning… the same one he'd been wearing for days on end.

"Jeez, you're lucky gods smell so damned nice or you'd be a freaking dumpster by now," she wrinkled her nose at the grubby pyjamas. "Don't you even bother to change any more?"

He watched her through heavy lidded eyes. "What is the point? It's not like _you _make an effort to look presentable whenever you leave the comfort of your home," he sniffed at her clunky jeans and baggy top with obvious distaste. Darcy narrowed her eyes.

"Whatever. At least I don't look like a goddamned hobo," she whirled around and made her way to the elevator. Once inside she turned on him again, sensing he was ready to explain himself.

"And what's with you lately? Whenever I see you, you're either knocked out on the couch or watching really lame sitcoms on T.V. Did your brother break up with you or something?"

Loki took in a deep breath, straightening up to his full height. _Ah__.__M__aybe I shouldn't have pressed that button, _she thought with sudden fear.

But his rage vanished as quickly as it had come. "I am… sorry Darcy…" His voice was tinged with a strange sadness and Darcy felt an involuntary urge to hug him.

"Uh…" she didn't really know how to reply. _Maybe he's depressed? He _seems_ depressed__.__ I remember Dad used to do this when—_

_No. Don't think about that._

She realised Loki was staring at her, a look of sincere fascination and acute concern all over his features.

"Why does your mind go to such places?" he whispered, barely audible, then realising he'd said it aloud, he cleared his throat. When she didn't reply he sighed, and asked a different question.

"You think me depressed?"

"You certainly act it," she said bitterly.

"Well… I can assure you I am not."

"Depressives deny they're depressives, you know."

The elevator _dinged _and Darcy wandered out into the hall. "You've been like this since Fury and Jane showed up. What happened? You were fine before."

He cleared his throat and dipped his hands into the pockets of the dressing gown. "It is none of your concern."

There was that hollow feeling again. _He's shutting me out. Of everything._

Feeling hot tears bubble in her eyes, she clenched her jaw and started stomping towards her apartment. _Stupid god of assholes._

When she slammed the door open she was beyond surprised to find Tony Stark sitting on her couch, helping himself to a bag of Doritos. When she came in he jumped a little, sending the chips flying everywhere.

"Ah, shit," he cursed, kneeling down to pick them up. Loki let out a rare laugh at the sight.

"Sorry Darc, but the door was unlocked."

"I don't expect company all that often," she admitted, walking over to help him. She smiled. Stark was easy to hang around. Unlike _other _people.

Loki was sitting on her bed now, staring off into space. She almost hated him like this. Didn't he care about anyone else but himself?

"So, you ready for our lunch date?" Stark grinned. "Though no drinking this time; I'm worried I'll get carried away."

"That's so unlike you it's scary. What's caused the great Tony Stark to become so soft on his drinking?" She laughed.

He smiled sheepishly, "A certain drug named Pepper Potts. She wasn't all too pleased with me when I moped around hungover all day after you'd been 'round. And I sorta promised her I wouldn't do it again." He sighed. "You know, she's the only one who's given me reason to make – and keep – a promise. It's a scary place, I tell you. There's a reason why I never set foot there before."

Darcy laughed again, and she was vaguely aware of Loki's piercing gaze on her. _What? I'm allowed to laugh._

To prove her point she suddenly laughed _very _loudly towards the bed. Loki stiffened and lifted his chin, staring down his nose at her.

"Dick," she hissed under her breath.

"Uh… I get that a lot, but I don't quite see what I've done _this _time." Stark's black brow creased with confusion.

"Oh! No, I'm just… being a child," she slumped. "Loki's over there," she gestured towards the bed.

Stark stiffened. "I see…" With obvious caution, he regarded the empty bed. Loki watched him, too, but didn't reveal himself. Stark wandered over to the bed, peering into thin air.

"That's pretty weird, you know," he said after a good few moments of fruitless inspection. "That you can… see him and stuff. Doesn't it get annoying? Having someone around all the time?"

She snorted, "Before now? It was fine. But he's being a total _ass-hat _lately." Loki smirked and lay down on the bed, ignoring her jibes.

She scowled. "C'mon Starkie, let's go."

The restaurant was way over the top – too pretentious for Darcy's tastes. She'd hoped they'd be heading to some café, or better yet a fast food place, but knowing Stark she shouldn't have hoped for anything _but _suave suit-and-tie.

She was underdressed too, which always irked her. She hated being self-conscious. The elegant women in sweeping dresses and diamonds stared down their noses at her baggy jeans and t-shirt. She was bitterly reminded of Loki's judgement.

"You know, if you want a mopey son-of-a-bitch as a pet, I've got a spare," she said biting down on some fancy French morsel. It tasted heavenly, but she was disappointed there was only an egg-cup's worth of it on her plate.

_At least at Burger King you can get ten times the amount of food for the same price. We totally should have gone there._

Stark laughed, "I think I'll pass." After gulping down another inadequate glass of water he cleared his throat and spoke.

"What's it like? I mean, he's a god isn't he? That would… spice things up, I'm sure."

She snorted, "He's the most boring, apathetic _dick _I've ever met. He's gone all emo on me lately. I swear he's gone through all of New Mexico's supply of Nutella – it's like he's a druggie or something." She took another bite. _Mmm, sweet French goodness._

"Weird. Do you think it's got something to do with his family? I heard he's got some major complexes over his bro, and his dad too."

"Yeah…" she had a flashback to her little speech when Nick and Jane had confronted her. She still stood by what she'd said. She was certain Loki had some major pressures on his shoulders. When family shit went down with _her_, she'd been just about ready to blow up an entire planet as well. And that was just your regular family issues, not god-tier disasters and interracial adoption-thefts.

"I think it was something I said," she murmured eventually, stabbing at her last forkful. "I'm not really supposed to talk about it, but Fury and Jane turned up after they'd found out Loki was here. And I sorta… well… said some things…"

"What sort of things?" Stark was genuinely interested. She had the feeling he was a real old lady when it came to gossip. Cute.

"Well… I guess I stood up for him. Fury and Jane were all 'he's evil, he's a dickhead, blah blah,' and it's like… well okay guys maybe that's true, but leave him alone, yeah?"

Stark seemed to be processing her strange convoluted sentence slowly. Eventually it started making sense and he _mm_ed in consternation.

"Interesting…" he looked at her then, staring with an intensity she didn't really think he possessed. She felt a little cornered.

"Are you guys together?"

She choked on her fancy French cuisine. "W—what?"

"You know… are you guys …?" he makes a lewd gesture with his hands and Darcy gasps.

"What the hell? No way!" She gripped her fork and chewed feverishly. "What makes you say that? As if I'd be going out with a freaking _god," _she kept chewing with her eyes fixated on her now empty plate.

Stark laughed, "Why else would you stick up for him?"

She was caught. "Because! Well… I don't know…" Her voice was quiet.

He laughed again and reached over to grab her hand gently. She was startled by his sudden sensitivity. _I think Pepper's really starting to have an effect on our Iron Man…_

"Darc. You like him. That's cool – just tell him."

_What?_

_Tell him?_

_But…but…_

"Tell him?" she breathed. "Jesus, Stark… tell him what? I don't like him, pfffssshh, what are you on about? Are you sure you haven't been drinking? You're deluded." She'd spoken a little too fast, and now Stark was laughing at her knowingly.

"Even _I _know when a girl's smitten, Darc," he let go of her hand. "Trust me – tell him. I'm sure he'll snap right out of his little emo tirade the moment you do."

She cleared her throat and downed the rest of her wine, "Whatever."

_I do _not _like him._

_And even if I did, he definitely _would not _like me back._

* * *

><p><strong>Skel: <strong>_**Again, another huge thank you to Frakkyfire – that talented woman**_


	9. Chapter 9

**Skel: _Reviewers! How to thank you, I don't even know, words fail me. _**

**_Again, Frakkyfire, you rock my world_**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine<strong>

Jane, Stark, Fury and Rogers all sat in the conference room feeling slightly awkward.

"I can't believe you people," Fury said quietly. Everyone was on edge – Fury's wrath built like a storm, and his current calm was terrifying.

"L—look Fury..." Stark began, wringing his hands.

"Shut up! I'm holding you responsible, Stark," he growled, pointing a finger at Iron Man ominously. Stark gulped.

"Shutting up."

"Rogers. Explain yourself."

The Captain looked very pained and winced as Fury let loose his menacing gaze on the unsuspecting man. He swallowed loudly and looked everywhere but the agent's face.

"Well… uh… you see…"

"You were last seen with Miss Lewis, here," he clicked the pointer in his hands at the screen behind him, and a blown up image of Steve and Darcy appeared. They were sitting at a café, enjoying a coffee.

Steve felt so nervous he thought he was going to implode.

"Yes," he whispered.

"And this," he clicked the pointer again, "Is a recording of what transpired."

There was a faint crackling and then the speakers came to life. Everyone recognised Darcy's voice loud and clear and bolshy as she spoke to the Cap:

"_Yeah. He's alright, I guess… not much fun anymore though."_

_The Cap laughed__._ "_What do you mean?"_

"_Well… don't tell anyone, but he's been sticking around. Like__,__ I mean since Fury and Jane came over… and well – I don't know, you're a guy. Maybe you can tell me what's wrong with him—"_

Fury switched it off, watching Steve Rogers as he squirmed like a worm on a hook.

"Caught," he said chilly. "Darcy was stupid enough to think we wouldn't be listening to her _every _word. Especially now. And _you, _Captain, were stupid enough not to tell us the second she said those words to you."

Stark interrupted again. "But surely if you were already listening, you didn't need us to tell you?"

"It's a matter of principle, Tony!" Fury yelled, whirling on him. "How can I trust you to protect the cube if I cannot even trust you with this girl? You were all covering for her! She told all three of you that Loki was still with her, and for you two—" he pointed at Stark and Rogers "—it's been _days _since she informed you!" He sighed, running his palm down his face slowly.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. has been on red alert for the past week. Loki is suspect number one when it comes to people who'd want the cube. Selvig's scare, too, places him in the black books." With a long sigh, Fury looked towards Jane.

"Miss Foster, I am particularly disappointed in you. I expected more."

Jane paled.

"I made a mistake letting Darcy go," he said, "Not only is she in perpetual danger now that we know Loki is _still with her, _but she is also harbouring a threat to this organisation and the entire world."

Fury sat on the couch closest to him, resting his elbows on his knees and slouching exhaustedly. Stark thought he needed a stiff drink. Or a good fuck. Or both.

"So… she's to be put in a cell?" Jane whispered.

"I'm afraid so, Miss Foster," Fury replied levelly.

"N—No! No I cannot let you," she stood up and folded her arms, steeling her petite frame in front of the very imposing Fury, who looked thrice her size even when seated.

"Miss Foster—"

"You can't. She's only _just _an adult, Fury! Not to mention the fact that Loki was pretty damn pissed last time you tried to confine her."

"That was me. Alone. This time we'll have a squad… I imagine she'll resist."

"This isn't okay, Fury!" Rogers suddenly stood too, moving to stand beside Jane. "This is Darcy we're talking about. Not a terrorist!"

"Rogers, you don't understand—"

"No," Stark said. Everyone turned to stare at him. He was sitting on the couch, his mouth covered by his gnarled fingers. He was watching Fury with a steely gaze which none of the group had ever witnessed before. It was a chilling sight.

"Don't touch her," his voice was still iron.

Fury blinked and cleared his throat. "Look. I know all of you like Darcy. And, to be honest, I kinda like the kid too. She's got spunk. She's brave. But you know as well as I that S.H.I.E.L.D. aren't one to put an individual's comfort above a multitude's. If we don't do something soon, the whole world could be in jeopardy."

"Why don't you just talk to her?" Jane offered.

"Yeah, c'mon boss. Just talk to her. She's not a very good liar – even if she is hanging out with the God of Lies," Stark said.

"But what about what she said to Miss Foster?" Fury retorted. "Loki could very well be controlling what she does and doesn't say. What if he's behind her the whole time we're interrogating her – controlling what she says?"

Stark rubbed his beard absently. "Why don't you let one of us talk with her? I mean, I was there when Loki was in her apartment, and he didn't seem to be controlling her then. Maybe he likes me better than you," he smirked at the agent and Fury scowled.

But the idea was growing on him. He hated bringing people into custody, especially against their will. And if he were perfectly honest with himself, he feared another confrontation with Loki. That man was intimidating in his rage.

"Alright," Fury sighed. "Alright, we'll do it. Stark? I'm counting on you. She seems to trust you – god knows why. She'll suspect Jane because she's closer to her. So you do it. Bring her in somehow, I don't care how, just get it done."

"How about I invite her around, then question her at home? That way it won't be so suspicious," Stark said slowly.

"Fine. Fine. Do it your way," Fury was getting impatient. With each passing moment of indecisiveness, the planet was threatened even further.

"Let's get this done."

"Loki?"

Darcy had finished work early – Jane said she had another meeting with Fury but that she didn't have to come along. Usually she'd be suspicious as to why she was so lucky, but she'd been too exhausted, and too keen to get home, to ask.

Now she stepped into the apartment wishing she'd been allowed to go.

"Loki? What the hell?" The room was trashed. Completely trashed. It was worse than her room at her parent's place when she was a teenager – worse than Stark's place when Pepper was on holiday.

"Jesus…" she whispered, running her fingers through her hair. This was too much. There was Nutella smudged into the carpet, filthy clothes and tattered material littering the furniture, and half of her crockery was smashed in the kitchen. Eyes wide and heart pulsing rapidly, she turned to walk into the bedroom area.

"Loki…?" she whispered.

There in the middle of the bed was the God of Mischief himself. Still in that filthy bathrobe, he was sprawled across her sheets, dead to the world. She couldn't see his face, but she assumed he was sleeping.

"Fuck me," she breathed, sitting on the end of the bed. "What have you done?"

She felt angry tears sting her eyes and with shaking hands she covered her face. _What the hell happened?_

She was at her wit's end. It was all too much – his emotional rollercoasters, his stupid bouts of kindness and tenderness, and especially his obvious selfish attitude. He didn't give a shit about her to the point where he would trash her apartment. This was the last straw.

"Fucking hell, Loki," she whimpered into her hand, stifling a sob. "You stupid fucking dick."

"I have heard quite enough insults from you, harlot," she heard.

She spun around incredulously to see Loki's face turned toward her, his expression that same mask of indifference. She narrowed her eyes and felt her nostrils flare with rage.

"What did you call me?" she hissed.

"Harlot. It means you are a whor—"

"I know what it bloody means," she snarled at him, kneeling on the bed, towering above him. He just lay there, looking up at her apathetically.

"I saw you with that _Tony Stark," _he said hollowly. "_Touching _and _laughing _and whatever else harlots do." He sniffed.

_Wait… what?_

"Huh?" Darcy moved closer to him now. "What do you mean, you saw me and Stark—"

"I saw you together!" he yelled, pushing himself up so that he was sitting beside her, his eyes fiercely passionate now. She could see that blinding anger seething there and she was suddenly very frightened.

"L—Loki?" she whispered, feeling her previous tears now roll down her cheeks. "I don't…understand…"

Just as suddenly as his rage had flashed across his face, so too did his shock. He watched on, completely astonished, his eyes darting across her face.

"Y—you're crying," he said softly. Slowly, like melting ice, he tentatively stretched his fingers to touch the wetness on her cheeks. He dreamily rubbed it away with his thumb, then rested his palm on the side of her face and gently stroked her skin.

She stood still, trying to find the ability to function.

_What the hell, what the hell, what the hell!_

But her body had other ideas. At the sudden sensation of his touch, she'd involuntarily moved closer to him, closing the space between their chests. Her face felt hot and flushed as his fingers continued to stroke her, and she leaned in to his palm.

But he flinched like he'd been burnt. Ripping his hand away, he flashed out of the air, only to reappear behind her, pacing furiously. He cried out in rage.

"Darcy!" he yelled, clenching his fists. "What mad trickery is this?" He stomped around, pacing faster and faster.

"Loki! Please, you're frightening me…" she whimpered, rubbing at her tears. _This is pathetic, get a hold of yourself Darcy!_

"Oh yes, you would feign stupidity, wouldn't you? You sorceress!" He was close to her now, leering down at her like she were the most disgusting thing on the planet.

"I told you already, I'm not a fucking sorceress!" she shrieked. She was pissed now. He needed to know his mood swings were _not _acceptable. He needed some serious naughty-corner time.

"You lie," he snarled. "First the deflection of my spells and now _this," _he gestured to his chest, "…this ridiculous enchantment. It's maddening, Darcy! I order you to cease immediately."

"What bloody enchantment?" She balled her fists and walked closer to him. Finger raised, she started stabbing him in the chest.

"It's not _my _fucking problem you're acting all weird all of a sudden! Don't you think _I'm _going mad too? I thought—" she stopped then, too afraid to go on.

"What?" he asked with disdain clear in his voice.

"I _thought _we were starting to get along," she whispered, her anger ebbing away. This wasn't what she'd had in mind; this wasn't what she wanted…

She'd thought Loki was changing.

To her surprise, he didn't retort bitterly. Instead, he just blinked and slowly ran his white fingers through his inky black hair. With a strained voice he replied, "Darcy… there's so much I don't understand."

She snorted, "That makes two of us."

"It started when I arrived," he said. "All my plans and schemes have been… abandoned. I can't think straight, I can't eat properly, I can't even be bothered to _dress _appropriately and that used to be my top priority before anything else," he moved to sit on the end of the bed and sunk his head into his hands.

"Not to mention the fact that you – you think of me as your… " he choked on his words, scrunching his perfect face in pain.

"It's been eating me up, Darcy. Your words. What you said to Fury and Jane, it's…" he clenched his fists again, turning them even whiter as he tensed.

"And I'm paranoid," he said with a mirthless laugh. "_Me_! Paranoid. It's unspeakable."

Darcy was frozen. He was baring his soul now – the one thing she'd wanted after all this time. She was too afraid that if she even dared to breathe, he might revert back to his angst and bitterness and be lost to her.

And what on earth did he mean about _her words_?He was speaking gibberish.

She decided to try and reason with him anyhow. She didn't like seeing him like this. Villain or no, she felt he needed a friend. Even if he had rejected her kindness so many times, and distanced himself as much as he could, she thought maybe now she could reach him.

Darcy slowly sat down beside him, keeping her distance.

"Maybe… you're too pent up?" she offered quietly, her heart racing. "Maybe you need to get out more."

He shook his head. "The day I take advice from a mortal girl will be a tremendously horrific day," he said darkly. She swallowed.

_He's acting just like Dad… fickle and moody and in denial…_

"Look," she stood then, folding her arms. "I don't understand you. I don't get why you're so down all the time. I don't understand what you're trying to tell me about… my words or your plans and schemes or whatever. Hell, I don't even know if I _like _you all that much. In fact I'm pretty sure that ninety-eight percent of the time I hate your fucking guts. And you refuse to leave, and I'm sorta stuck with that. But if you're hell bent on being an asshole all the time, then get the fuck out of my house."

When she saw his pained expression, she felt her true feelings start to gnaw at her. She didn't want him to get the fuck out of her house. She really didn't.

"Yet…" Her expression softened, and she reached for his shoulder. When he looked at her in astonishment she felt a little more confident, and smiled at him.

"For some weird reason, I don't want you to go," she said softly.

His mouth gaped open and his brow creased into a thick hard line of confusion. He stared at her for a moment, completely incredulous.

She bit her lip, "What do you say we go get some coffee?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Skel: _Oh wow, thank you for your incredibly kind reviews folks. I'm absolutely blown away I thought this would get like 3 reviews honestly oh wow._**

**_Frakkyfire is the eternal Grammar-policewoman, a thankless job, which deserves endless praise. Thank you so very much!_**

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><p><strong>Chapter Ten<strong>

Loki hadn't expected Darcy's outburst at all. Come to think of it, almost everything Darcy did was unexpected to him. She did not follow the regular social patterns of other mortals he'd observed, and she most certainly did not follow the Asgardian social patterns to which he was accustomed.

So when she'd confronted him and challenged him about his behaviour, he was taken off guard. He didn't know how to respond or even how to think about her words. His brain just told him he should probably agree if he wanted to appear normal.

When he was eventually alone that night, lying in her bed gazing at the dim white ceiling, he tried to take stock of his situation.

Things were a little clearer now – probably due to the coffee. Since arriving on Midgard, he'd been taken by the strange caffeinated substance. It seemed to alert his brain and remove the usual haze of confusion which draped itself about him as of late – even if it was only marginally. Now, in the quiet of the night with the buzz of caffeine still whirring in his mind, he was able to think clearly for the first time in weeks.

The first thing he wanted to decipher was Darcy. He'd initially thought her infatuated, which was why he had distanced himself with his depressive tendencies. Her little speech to Fury and Jane had made him cautious – if she truly thought of herself as his… partner… then that would make things very difficult.

He could not allow her to become too attached. As useful as it may seem, if she were to learn of his true motives, not only would her heart be broken, but the repercussions may prove too troublesome.

For instance, Loki knew she was prone to irrational, spontaneous behaviour, which could mean an emotional outburst of infantile proportions. Most probably it would include a confession to S.H.I.E.L.D. as well, which was the last thing he wanted.

He was more than certain now, however, that her advances were innocent. After trying in vain to keep out of her mind, Loki had spent a lot of time there over the past few days. He'd taken a keen interest in reading her strange almost intangible thoughts. She thought about her family a lot, and her friends; particularly Jane. Her thoughts regarding Stark and Rogers were interesting too, and hot topics as of late.

She also thought of Loki.

During the past week especially, her thoughts were trained on him like a bloodhound. However, much to his confused dismay, she was more concerned than infatuated. She had a strange tendency to lock down whenever he grew too bitter or furious, and would either avoid him or hate him or do both at the same time. When this occurred she grew very passionate in her aggression towards him.

However her passionate thoughts weren't in the sexual vein – they were murderous.

And so, particularly after their café outing, he'd allowed his mind to settle. She did not care for him in the way he'd thought, she was simply concerned about him in a selfish way. His behavioural patterns as of late were aggravating to her, and so she wanted him to recover simply so that she wasn't annoyed by him any further.

The revelation should have comforted him.

Not for the first time, he found himself getting up in the middle of the night to spy on her. Silently he would creep to sit down on the floor and watch her face whilst she slept. He knew not why he did it, he simply knew he enjoyed it. It gave him a peace he could not explain.

Loki let his eyes trail the contours of her face, along the line of her jaw and across her high cheekbones. He rested on her full lips, then her neck, feeling a strange urge to touch the pale milky skin there…

He stopped himself, moving his eyes back to stare at her dusky eyelids. Her face was set in a pose of pure relaxation. Prior to today, she'd been fretful in her sleep and would often wake to find him there, meaning he'd have to hex her in order for her to fall back to sleep. Her dreams too were troubled, and she would often wake up more exhausted than when she fell asleep.

He wondered if her anxiety had anything to do with his mood, but shooed the thought away. It had nothing to do with him. She was probably just moody herself, like so many other Midgardian females.

Now he was relieved to find her peaceful. A mirage of a smile tugged at her mouth, and he was mesmerized by the way her full lips moved infinitesimally. She was a fascinating creature.

What he wished to know was why he felt the need to study her. He was almost paranoid in his ownership of her – he knew already that he felt protective and possessive of her. He reasoned it was because she was an asset. His outrage at Fury was founded on fear for his asset, not for her wellbeing as a person.

But he still could not find an answer for his reaction with Stark. He'd followed her on both occasions when she'd visited him, and both times he'd had to employ all of his self-discipline in order not to kill the Iron Man where he stood.

The lunch date was a true test. The way Stark had looked at her, and touched her hand, was maddening. He knew from her thoughts that she did not feel anything for him, and was certain Stark was more infatuated with Miss Potts for anyone else to be remotely interesting to him, but still he was furious. No one touched his Darcy without his permission.

He suddenly realised he'd been stroking her hair, and he flinched away. His fingers ached to touch her smooth skin, but he resisted.

_What is happening to me?_

He decided to do some research on enchantments. Loki was beyond certain there was something ephemeral tampering with his mind – something which caused him to feel a certain way towards her. There was nothing else to explain this pathetic affection he felt.

And he was certain it had something to do with Darcy's abilities. She had been honest when he'd confronted her about it – her mind was truthful and open. She had no ulterior motives, no need to bewitch him.

And yet she did.

He hadn't felt this way about anyone in all his long years of existence. Not one of the ladies of the Asgardian court had caught his fancy. Of course there were multitudes who had wanted his attention, but they were either too vain to have a real reason, or too obsessed with his brother for it to be genuine.

Darcy was the opposite in so many ways – she was uninterested, humble and true.

He sighed, standing up gracefully to gaze down at her. He felt a pang of guilt as he saw her scrunched up on the small couch whilst he was able to lounge on her comfortable bed built for two.

_Maybe I should invite her to sleep with m—_

_No. Bad idea._

Deciding it would be best for her to have a more comfortable sleeping arrangement, he lifted her up with his magic, gently allowing her to float across to the bedroom, and then laid her out on the sheets softly. She mumbled something as the magic wore off and she settled into the fabric, but soon fell still, her hands curled up like a child's on the pillow beside her face.

_Such a sweet girl._

He watched her as he stood in the shadows, the curtains making strange shapes on his pale, perfect features. As her chest rose and fell gently, he wondered how different things would have been if he and his brother had switched places. So many times throughout his life, he'd asked himself that question. 'What if I were the first born?' 'What if I were the good guy?' 'What if people adored me instead of hated me…'

He was certain that if he were in Thor's position, he would have swept Darcy up in his arms and taken her far away from everything. He would make a life with her – a good and pure life, just for them. With no trickery or deceit, just a radiating peace which he saw so clear on her face. He would make it his life goal to bring her joy and peace for the rest of her days.

He scowled from the darkness.

But he was not Thor. He was Loki. The God of Mischief and Lies. The Prince of Trickery and Chaos. Wherever he went, destruction was sure to follow.

And as he stared into Darcy's perfect face he felt a chilling fear – that if he wasn't careful, Darcy too would fall under his destructive power. Everything he touched turned to dust.

He would not allow that fate to befall her.


	11. Chapter 11

**Skel: _Just thought I'd explain a little about this chapter. If you're a fan of the comics/mythology then I'm sorry if this sorta dismisses some of their notions - but I thought, seeing as the film 'Thor' played around with the myths, I might as well do it too, and as there are so many unanswered questions about Loki's past in the film, I took the creative license to alter that a bit, too. I have hang-ups about Sigyn, so I wanted to make her more of an ex-girlfriend thing, and I left Angrboda out because it complicated the story I had in my mind. As much as I love the comics/mythology which involves Loki's kickass children etc, I wanted this to be a little different. I hope you guys don't mind._**

**_Additionally I didnt want to get into the intense mythology all too much because there are so many badass writers on here who have already done it and done it so _well. (_Stories such as Love and Other Lies and Mendacity come to mind)_ _Oh wow, seriously, how can I even hope to attempt to mimic that level of awesome. I don't even know. So I just didn't go there.  
><em>**

**_Also, Clueless-Loki is so much fun to write, and he wouldn't be in existence if he'd had previous relationships with Sigyn and Angrboda. Also, the fact that he's so teasing sexually with Darcy may seem a little strange if he's clueless, but it'll all make sense in time_**

**_Oh and also, just wanted to remind you all, in one of the early chapters, Loki and Darcy made a loose deal regarding Nutella and sleeping on couches/not telling secrets. It's mentioned here, so in case you forgot, it's in chapter four_**

**_wow long AN is long. Sorry guys! here's the juicy part:_**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eleven<strong>

She needed a plan.

Darcy lay awake in her bed – totally confused as to why she'd ended up there in the first place, but grateful nonetheless – planning her revenge. She guessed Loki had moved her. As much as she didn't want to admit it, Darcy was thankful… and all fuzzy and giggly about it too. He'd considered her comfort and put it above his own. The fact that he'd now reduced her into a conflicted mess, torn between complete girlish joy and annoyance that she was turning into a squeeing fangirl, wasn't cool. That deserved some sort of payback.

First, she was going to take advantage of Loki's new openness and get him to talk. She was right – he was more pent up than a kid at band camp and needed some serious release. She smirked at the innuendo. Although she was certain he needed sexual release, she wasn't really ready for that yet.

_Jesus, what are you thinking Darc? _She screwed her eyes shut, trying to erase the mental image. For the past week she hadn't been at all dirty minded in her thoughts of Loki. But now that he was suddenly social again, she was head over heels. Stark was right, much to her annoyance. Even while he had been a dick she still had feelings for Loki. Granted they were a little less intense, but still very real. Now they were back with full force – and were very sexual. Hey, it wasn't _her _fault he was the sexiest being to ever grace the nine realms with his sexy presence. She was only human.

That was the second part of her plan. She needed to tell him how she felt. She didn't know how, nor why it was so important, but something in the way Stark had caught her out stuck in her mind. Loki wasn't just another guy – he was a god, for crying out loud. And Darcy was smitten. He deserved to know the truth of her feelings.

The third part of her plan was a little trickier. Before she did the big reveal, she needed to get closer to Loki. She wasn't too sure what that entailed, but somehow she needed the sucker to trust her and be comfortable around her. Darcy wondered if there were "how-to" guides for getting the affection of gods. That would come in handy. _God Snatching for Dummies. Haha._

_This is ridiculous, _she thought. He didn't think of her that way. He'd _never _think of her that way. Who was she kidding?

All the same, he needed to know how she felt.

She thought about how it would all play out. She'd sit him down, wring her hands, stumble out her confession and watch him…

Watch him what?

What would his reaction be? How would his perception of her change? And most importantly, would he still stick around?

Before she could finish her melancholy train of thought, a loud buzzing interrupted her. Quickly, she reached for the phone on her bedside table and tapped the screen.

"H—hello?" she spoke into the receiver huskily.

"Darcy? Did I wake you?" It was Stark. _What does he want at this hour?_

"Um… yeah, but that's cool. Isn't it a bit early though, Starkie?" She rubbed her eyes, blearily looking at the low sun through the curtains.

"It's like… twelve o' clock Darc," Stark said warily.

"Oh shit!" Darcy leapt out of bed, flinging the covers off. "Shit, shit, shit, Jane will be pissed! I'm so fucking late!"

"Darc! It's okay. It's Saturday, you've got a day off." Stark's voice was full of laughter. Darcy huffed and sat down on her couch.

Her very empty, very not-Loki-filled couch.

"Shit… where's Loki?" she whispered, forgetting she was on the phone. Stark grew very silent.

"Has he gone?" he asked seriously.

"Y—yeah… we had coffee yesterday, but I haven't seen him this morning. He must be out or… something," Darcy bit her lip. This wasn't right.

"Hmm..." Stark sounded a little concerned, but eventually he cleared his throat and offered, "Never mind him. He's probably off killing cats or something."

Darcy scowled, "Lay off him Tony."

"Hey! It was just a joke," he laughed.

"What are you calling for anyways? Is everything okay?" She stood up to find some clothes. She should probably get dressed, even if it was her day off. Though a pyjama day did sound rather appealing…

"Oh no, nothing, I just wanted to see if you were busy. I found some movies we could watch. Pepper's out doing Peppery things so I'm left to my own devices today," he sighed.

"Oh, right. Um… yeah sure. Like, now?"

"Yeah, now would be cool."

"Okay, sweet. I'll get a taxi and be 'round in a jiffy."

Stark snorted. "A _jiffy_? What are you, 70 years old?"

Darcy groaned, "Whatever! 70 year olds are cool."

"Yeah…"

"Do you want me to come over or not?"

"Sorry, man! Jeez. Don't forget to bring your walker with you," he sniggered.

She tried not to laugh. "I will. And I'll beat your metallic ass with it."

"I should like to see you try," he teased.

"Later dude," she laughed and hung up the phone. Now she definitely needed to get changed.

Making her way to the wardrobe, she flung it open and took in all her baggy clothes and grandpa jumpers. _Maybe I really am 70 years old._ She looked at her drab collection and with a sigh picked out her usual oversized garments and started undressing.

As she moved her hands to lift her pyjama top off, she was suddenly very aware of the bathroom in front of her. The door was slightly ajar and she could see the mirror clearly from her vantage point. Lifting the shirt over her head slowly, she glanced at the mirror and shrieked.

"Loki!" His smirking face stared back at her from the mirror. She jumped and moved her hand to cover her breasts. _This has happened way too many times. Once is too many, but twice? C'mon._

"Hello, Miss Lewis." He was standing behind her, but she could see his reflexion in the mirror. He was no longer dressed in his mopey dressing gown, but buttoned up in a suit with a very nice scarf wrapped around his angular neck. The dishevelled black hair that had become so familiar lately now hung in straight, sweeping slicks as it rested on his collar. He looked like a spy, or a Scandinavian model off to a fashion shoot.

_Oh good lord__,__ someone get me a pair of waterproof underwear already._

Loki stiffened, reading her thoughts. But he soon composed himself, not wanting to give anything away.

"You are to see the Iron Man?" he asked casually, but with a terrifying steel in his voice that Darcy didn't appreciate.

She blinked then moved to put her bra on. Facing away from him, she didn't see his expression, which was a cross between complete horror and utter fixation. Just before she covered it with her undergarment, Loki glimpsed the side of her smooth white breast and paled. _This girl…_

She clasped her bra together then threw on a t-shirt, completely covering all form. He scowled slightly_, _then resolved he would one day alter her wardrobe for the betterment of mankind.

"Now hang on just a second," she said, turning back to him with her arms folded. "You're not even going to bother explaining to me what happened last night? Why was I in my bed? Why didn't I wake up until freaking lunchtime? And where have you been dressed like _that_?" She gestured to his fancy clothes with a grimace.

He lifted his chin. "That is none of your business," he began, but when he saw her expression of hurt, he changed his mind.

"But if you _must _know, I was with Doctor Selvig." He looked away, not meeting her incredulous gaze.

"You were _what_?"

"I have my reasons for not informing you of things, Miss Lewis," he said angrily.

"Why the _hell _were you with _Erik_?"

He felt very cornered by her stare, and didn't like the way it made him feel. She had such an uncanny ability to disarm him, but he'd never let her know it. His aloof mask covered his fear.

"You have not yet answered _my _question, Miss Lewis," he moved closer towards her, his lips quivering with agitation. "Are you to see Tony Stark?"

"_Yes _I am," she hissed. "But _that's _none of your concern," she mimicked his posh accent and moved to the bathroom. She still needed to put her jeans on, and she was slightly worried that she hadn't shaved in a while. As much as she didn't give a fuck what he thought, she didn't much want Loki to see her hairy man legs.

"I would advise you against it," he said as she shut the door in his face.

"I don't take orders from you!" she yelled, unfastening her pyjama bottoms and stepping out of them awkwardly.

There was a shift in the air and she shrieked again as Loki appeared in the bathroom, leaning casually against the sink.

"Stop perving!" she yelled, throwing her pants at him. He smiled as he inspected the colourful trousers, an amused look spreading across his features.

"I was not ordering. Merely advising," he pushed himself off the sink, taking in her legs as she slid the ill-fitting jeans along them. _Such a shame for something so luscious to be covered…_

"And _why _is that?" She fastened the buckles and moved to the mirror to put some make-up on.

"I hear everything that transpires in this compound," he said from behind her, moving closer. "Stark wishes to interrogate you."

She snorted, "No. Stark's my drinking buddy. That's all."

"Miss Lewis," he growled, gripping onto her arm and spinning her around to face him. Once again she found herself trapped against the sink with him towering above her.

"This is not a game. My schemes are in jeopardy. I would not have you gallivanting off with _philanthropists, _blurting out our secrets to whomever you please," his grip tightened as he slid his long fingers down to her wrist. She winced, but jutted her chin out in protest.

"_Our _secrets?" she whispered, "You broke our deal when you moved me to the bed, dumbass. _Remember? _You promised to share your Nutella with me if I gave you my bed. Among some other things. Including keeping your damn secret," she smiled without mirth, quirking her brow at him, then glancing toward the bed. "Guess I don't have to keep your secrets anymore."

Loki let out a dark laugh and sucked in a long breath. "There are no deals. Cancel your _date _with Stark or I cancel your airways," he moved, unnervingly fast, to touch his free hand to her neck, feeling the fragility of her skin. He pressed his thumb into the soft flesh at the base of her throat, revelling in the smoothness there.

After a long, pulsing moment, Darcy steeled herself and clenched her fists. With all the strength she could muster, she brought her hands up to touch his chest, then heaved with all her might.

"No."

He moved back - more by courtesy than her strength - and shook his head in wonder.

"You dare defy me?"

"You know," she said as she turned to slap some mascara on angrily, "I thought you'd changed. Yesterday was awesome, and now you're being a dick again."

"I was no less focused on my plans yesterday than I am now," he said slowly. "There has been no alteration in my demeanour, save that yesterday you were not as irrational."

"How about this," she looked at him levelly in the mirror. "I won't tell Stark anything, even if he begs. Besides, I don't _know _anything do I? It's not like we talk all that much."

"You wish for us to converse more?" he raised his brow. "I was under the impression you only wished to hurl insults at me profusely. Particularly insults which involve the male genitalia," he hummed a laugh then, gazing at her from beneath his brow. "Why are you so fixated on such an appendage, Miss Lewis?"

She froze. _That's quite enough, lady parts. Quit tingling._

Ignoring his jibes, she replied to his question: "As a matter of fact I do want us to talk more. If you're to become a constant part of my life, we need to do the whole 'How was your day?', 'It was shit, how was yours?' crap."

She couldn't see his face as she focused on painting lipstick on her pouted lips. But his silence made her turn to look at him.

He was watching the floor, his hand covering his mouth as he slowly rubbed his lip. Consternation was etched into his face as he kept staring, making Darcy feel more than awkward.

She thought about her confession and, if she had more balls, would have done it now.

He snapped his head up then, eyes wide and mouth gaping.

"W—what?" he breathed.

Her eyes flicked sideways as she furrowed her brow. "What? I didn't say anything…"

"Oh," he whispered, moving back to stare at his feet, his eyes still wide. "O—of course."

With a grunt, she turned back around. No, she'd tell him some other time.

She couldn't be bothered with foundation, so she finished her lipstick and ruffled her hair. _Eh, average. Whatever. _

And with that she sauntered out the door, ignoring the new Loki statue which had been installed in her bathroom, slamming the apartment door shut behind her.

Stark had decided to order her a limo, which was so unnecessary. Darcy _liked _cabbies. More often than not they were talkative and had interesting stories to tell. Limo drivers were all pent up and snooty.

Like some other people she knew.

Just what the _hell _was up with Loki? She wished she had his powers and could read minds; that would solve so much.

The limo pulled up outside Stark mansion. Apparently he'd had it built when Fury requested he join the Avengers – a very typical Stark thing to do. Darcy looked at it now, her lip curled up in disgust. It was way over the top and far too modern for her tastes. She'd hate to live in a place like that – it would feel like she was living in a test-tube. Or a hospital.

Lazily climbing out of the limo, she secured her shades and made her way to the elaborate front door.

"Hey, hey!" she called as she rung the bell.

She heard faint clanking noises coming from the other side of the door. Curious, she tried to peer through the windows. It sounded like he was either blind drunk or severely hungover. _Jesus__,__ Stark…_

The door cracked open, and she saw the haggard face of Tony Stark peek out through the gap.

"Hey Darc, come on in." His voice was like gravel. Darcy winced as she took in his full form – sick as a dog and pale as ever – after he'd ushered her weakly inside.

"What the _hell _did you drink last night?" she asked, shrugging her jacket off. All the curtains were drawn and it was uncannily dark, so she tripped over a few shattered objects on the floor.

"What the…?" She noticed a _lot _of smashed objects on the floor.

After a moment of shocked silence, Stark cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. She looked at him and gasped.

"Holy shit… your face," she instinctually reached for the cuts and bruises that mottled the skin across his cheeks and eyes. "Jesus, Stark, I thought you were supposed to be good at beating people up. How the hell did you get your ass handed to you?" She held him by his shoulders and moved him to sit on the couch. Stark moaned as he sat down gingerly, clutching at his shoulder in pain.

Instead of answering her question, he just waved a hand over towards the stairwell. Confused, she shuffled around to peer into the dimness. Then all the colour drained from her face.

Standing in the shadows was a tall, wiry man with fancy clothes and slick black hair. He was only a silhouette, save for his face which broke the shadows with its sudden whiteness. His deep green eyes glistened as he gazed at her darkly.

"Mother of… fuck," she breathed.

"Darcy. I see you did not take my advice," he said coolly, shoving off from the wall he was leaning on and sauntering over to her like a cat that had just killed the canary.

She stammered out a weak reply. "No I d-didn't… Loki… what have you done?" Her voice was barely a whisper, and she could feel tears smarting in her eyes. She blinked furiously, then sat and buried her face into a nearby pillow.

She could feel a smooth touch on her back. Stark. _Man__,__ Stark__,__ you're cool sometimes._

"Get your hands off her," something hissed, very close to her now.

"Loki. C'mon man. We're all friends here." Stark's tone was joking and childlike. Darcy moaned. This was not the lunch escape she had hoped for. Stark and Loki were like fire and ice, and she was caught in the middle. She was going to get frozen _and _burned. _Fuck me._

"I thought I made myself perfectly clear, _Stark,_" Loki was beside her now, his voice coming at her from directly above. She didn't dare remove her pillow-armour. She wanted to curl up in a ball and die.

"You did, Loki. I won't be telling any secrets, nor will I do anything to harm your girl," he patted her back again and Darcy could have sworn she heard a low hiss escape Loki's lips.

_Wait._

_Your girl?_

She hesitantly peered out from her pillow, glancing up to see Loki staring down at her, his jaw clenched horribly tight and his fists balls of tense sinew and bone. He looked ready to kill Stark. And probably her too.

"Loki," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "You can't just go beating people up." She could feel her face attempting to scrunch up in anger, but she could't erase the tingling in her chest as she thought about Stark's words.

_Your girl._

Loki stiffened. As Darcy sat up properly, she could see Stark watching him curiously, trying to decipher his reaction. Loki cleared his throat and looked away, all anger seeming to dissipate.

"I am… sorry, Miss Lewis. If you understood the context, it may not seem so repulsive to you." He would not meet her eyes. In any other circumstance, Darcy probably would have laughed at his shy little avoidance. But she was too emotionally confused to do anything but blink at him.

"O…kay." _Was that an apology? Oh my god…_

"Um… anyhow," Stark looked considerably awkward as he slapped his knees and stood to his feet. With casual ease, he offered Loki his hand warmly.

"Truce?"

Loki stared down his nose at the gesture, his mouth drawing his face out long and low so that he looked like some pompous British royal. After a few moments of intense pressure, Darcy reached over to touch Loki's hand hanging at his side.

"C'mon Loki. He doesn't mean any harm," and she smiled at him. Loki's mouth fell slack slightly as he paled. Then, with awkward bravery, he took Tony Stark's hand and shook it firmly.

"Ow," Stark winced. Loki smirked.

"Just do not forget what I am capable of _Iron Man_," he said calmly, eventually releasing his hand.

"Sheesh," Darcy said after a beat, standing up. "All this stupid testosterone is killing me."

Suddenly, in answer to her internal prayers, the door opened and in walked Pepper Potts, holding three brown paper bags of groceries. She stopped as she saw the three individuals sitting in the living room. One totally exhausted twenty-two year old girl, one Norse god … and one beat-up Tony Stark.

"Tony!" she shrieked, flinging the groceries onto the floor, and raced over to her boss. Her petite little hands were everywhere, gingerly pressing against his face. He laughed heartily at her reaction and waved her hands away.

"Pepper, it's fine, I'm fine," he laughed again, holding her hand. Darcy felt very much like she was intruding on something. Loki just watched the wall. They were standing next to each other now, and there was a tension so thick you could almost see it crackling between them.

"What happened? Who did this?" Her eyes flicked automatically to Loki, who just lifted his brow as if to challenge her.

"You," she hissed.

"Hey now," Darcy moved to stand in front of the perpetrator. "I know you're pissed, but honest to Odin, just five seconds ago they did their secret best friend handshake. There's nothing to worry about." She stuck her hands out, fearing for her life as Pepper Potts stood ominously and moved towards Loki.

"Pepper, babe, chill out," Stark said with mirth in his voice. "Why don't you and Darc go have some girl time, whilst the boys sort their shit out?" He grinned.

"Are you kidding me?" she screeched, turning on Stark now. "I'm not leaving you alone with this—this—"

"Peps," Darcy said, putting a gentle hand on her thin arm, "he can't actually do anything. He knows that if he so much as lays a finger on Tony, I'll rip his balls off." She turned to Loki with an angelic grin, "Isn't that right, Loki?"

He laughed, "Yes. Miss Potts I assure you, I mean your lover no harm."

Her face went bright red and Tony started laughing hysterically, holding his sides. "Ooh, aah, it hurts to laugh, oh god," he squirmed around on the couch.

Pepper's nostrils flared, but she gave into Darcy's little tugs and followed her upstairs. Once the two girls had gone, Stark calmed down and wiped his streaking eyes.

"Oh, Loki. You are a one. _Lovers, _bahahahaha," he chortled again.

"I see no humour in my statement," he said levelly, moving to sit down at the far end of the couch, his hands poised on his knees.

"We're not lovers. At least… not yet anyway," he grinned mischievously and Loki couldn't help but admire the man's aptitude for mischief.

After a severely awkward silence, Stark moved to stand. Remembering the extent of his wounds, Loki waved his hand, completing a simple healing spell, and Stark's ailments ceased.

"Holy shit!" he cried, falling back into the couch. He looked much better, the colouration in his skin returning and the bruising dissipating into nothingness instantly. He stopped rubbing his arm, simply staring at his hands where the cuts and bruises used to be.

"That's a kickass party trick there, man," he said in wonder. Loki smiled absently.

"At least you are impressed by my talents," he said slowly.

Stark quirked his brow. "What do you mean?"

"There are many who do not appreciate the extent of my powers," he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. After a moment he added, "Particularly Miss Lewis."

"Oh…" Stark needed a drink. If this conversation was going where he thought he was going, they _both _needed very, very stiff drinks.

"Do, uh… do gods drink?" he asked lamely, standing again to move towards his extensive liquor cabinet. Loki let out a low laugh.

"Most do nothing else," he smiled. "Though I am sure your Midgardian liquor will be quite inadequate in comparison with that to which I am accustomed."

It was Stark's turn to laugh darkly. "Oh, but you haven't tried this." He pulled out some scotch – some very _old, _very _expensive _scotch – and poured two glasses, moving back to the couch. He sat down with forced languor and threw one leg over the other, making him look very much like the billionaire playboy he was. Albeit a very nervous one.

Loki took the drink and sniffed at it briefly. He wrinkled his nose in distaste, but thought it rude to refuse such a gift from the man he'd tried to beat up.

"Listen, Loki," Stark put his glass on the table, "about Darcy—"

"Miss Lewis," he corrected.

"Uh, yeah. Whatever. About _Miss Lewis_… there's some stuff we need to talk about." Stark hated confrontation, particularly when it involved such emotionally unstable subjects. He wrung his hands, looking everywhere but Loki's indifferent face.

"You coming here and handing my ass to me," he scratched his nose, "well … I know you _said _it was because you didn't want me interrogating Darc—er I mean, Miss Lewis – but I have to be honest with you. I don't believe you." _There__, __I said it.  
><em>

"You do not believe me. Since when have I ever been one to _lie, _Mr. Stark?" Loki smirked at him.

Tony laughed nervously, "Right. God of Lies and everything." He cleared his throat.

"What are you implying?" Loki asked in a bored tone.

"What I'm trying to say is…" Stark bit his lip. "Well, has Darcy, y'know… told you yet?"

Loki stiffened. "Told me what?" he breathed.

"Right. Okay. Let me ask something else. Apart from not wanting me to interrogate Darcy, what were your other reasons for beating the crap out of me?"

Loki sniffed, "That is no concern of yours."

"Oh but it is, buddy. I care about her," he pointed to the ceiling, gesturing to Darcy. "I don't want you tearing her heart up. You tell me right now, what was your other reason?"

Loki blanched, standing up very suddenly. "I do not appreciate mortal _scum _talking to me in such a manner. You would know your place," he shifted his hands to create another magic fireball and Stark put his hands up.

"Woah! Woah, remember Darcy's threat?"

Loki ceased his magic and sighed very deeply, running a hand down his drawn face.

"Look, I get you don't want to talk about it. But I need to know. Because it's pretty damn obvious something's going on between you and Darc, and I know you came over here to … thrash me because you thought I was coming on to her. So you better start explaining, because from where I'm standing I'd say you fancied her," he folded his arms and stared at his opponent for a very long time.

Loki opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He found, to his horror, that he was speechless. Never in his life had he not had something to say. The Iron Man's words had left his mind completely blank.

_He thinks I fancy her__.__ Darcy? It's preposterous. Me, an Aesir, a Prince of Asgard, falling for an inadequate mortal girl—_

"I'll take it from your awkward silence that you do," Stark said softly, trying not to laugh and groan in frustration at the same time. Loki was positively disarmed and bright red all over – from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck he was scarlet.

He was also completely clueless. This was going to be more difficult than Tony had thought.

"I—I—I do not," Loki stuttered, "You are mistaken."

Stark laughed, "For the God of Lies, you really suck at lying, man." He reached for the last of his scotch. "C'mon. Finish your drink."

Loki felt like he was on another planet. This could _not _be happening. He could _not _be falling in love with Darcy. It made no sense whatsoever. How on earth would falling in love with Darcy aid him in his schemes? It was so unlike him – women in general were almost repulsive to him. Creatures designed for carnal pleasure or emotional outbursts. He could see no use in them except when procreating, and he had no plans to do that again anytime soon. All of his other attempts had failed miserably, leaving him with strange half-breed children who either hated his guts or died within the first few hours of living.

He let out another sigh. _My mind is not my own. These thoughts come from nowhere. _With his head in his hands, Loki let out a small moan.

"I do not understand anything that is happening to me, Stark," he said in a moment of pure vulnerability. Stark was taken aback, and was seriously tempted to film the whole event, but thought better of it. As amusing as it was seeing Loki pissed off, it wasn't much fun when your ass was wrapped up and handed to you in a gift-box with a ribbon on top. Avoiding pissing him off was probably the best plan. He sighed.

"Can I ask you another question?" he said bravely.

"I see no reason why not."

"Have you had much experience with chicks before Darc?"

The silence was palpable.

Loki tweaked the bridge of his nose. "Your questions are ridiculous. Why on earth would you wish to know something like that?"

Stark smiled, "Trust me. I may be able to find a cure for what ails you."

Loki scrunched his face up in confusion and looked sideways at the Iron Man. "Your mortal ways are confusing, but I shall oblige out of curiosity. What do you wish to know?"

Stark mentally did a Mr. Burns impression, "Excellent. Alright. Question number one: Have you gotten past third base?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Oh right, of course. Uh… third base is… let's see… have you ever eaten a chick out?" Stark grinned.

"_Eaten_ a girl?" Loki's face was an expression of horror. "What in Odin's name …"

Stark facepalmed. "Oh my god, this is so difficult. Okay, okay, " he gestured with his hands. "I'll try something a bit more translatable. Have you ever kissed a woman?"

Loki shook his head, "What sort of a question is that? Of _course_ I have." He sniffed.

"Great. Now we're getting somewhere. Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

"Yes… one."

"Only one?"

"I have very particular tastes."

"Jesus…"

"I fail to see how this will aid me—"

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry. Just the one, okay. Who was she?"

"Her name was Sigyn."

"Sigyn… okay. _When _did you go out with her?"

"About three hundred years ago."

Stark choked on his scotch, "Woah. Okay. So… shit. Three hundred years… oh my god, does that mean…?" He seemed to be doing an impression of a fish, his eyes bulging and his mouth flapping open and closed. After a moment of shock, he composed himself.

"Okay… three hundred years. So then I take it it's been three hundred years since your last shag?"

"Shag?"

"Oh my god," he facepalmed again. "Since you last. Had. Sex."

The room imploded into silence, and Stark felt like he'd just seen the gates of hell. Loki's face lit up like a red light, burning furiously. His eyes were two white beams with pinprick pupils staring blindly ahead at nothing, and his mouth was a gaping black hole of death. He couldn't tell if he was full of rage or dying of embarrassment.

After an eternity of silence, Loki eventually replied. "This conversation is over."

"No! No wait, wait," Stark moved to stop him. "Please dude, this is important. You're probably not used to discussing these things, but here on Earth it's pretty much the norm."

"What a man and a woman share with each other as husband and wife is never anyone's concern," he said bitterly. His eyes were still death-beams, now tracking over to Stark's terrified face. He gulped.

"Okay. Alright— hang on a second. As _husband _and _wife_? What do you mean?"

"Intercourse is a process shared only by a husband and wife, or by lovers. Since no noble Aesir Prince or member of court has ever taken a lover, I assumed you were referring to those bound by marriage."

Stark looked like he'd seen a ghost.

"Loki … have you ever had sex with anyone?"

Loki cleared his throat, "Of course not."

With all the delicacy of a doctor, Stark moved his hand and placed it firmly on Loki's shoulder. Even the Aesir was surprised at the mortal's strength. He seemed very serious and very pale.

"Loki. Brother. Let me break it down for you. I am just going to assume that this Sigyn chick relationship was rather infantile. Holding hands, making out in the park, that sorta thing, am I right?"

Loki furrowed his brow. "Something like that. It was a very long time ago."

"And when you started dating her… or going around with her or whatever it is gods do… did _you_ ask _her_, or did she ask you?"

Loki blinked, "She asked me. I had no inkling as to her affections. I am disinterested in pursuing relationships. I was taken off guard and so agreed. It did not last very long."

"Oh god… so you've never asked a chick out? Never even thought about it?"

Loki blinked, "Er…. No."

"There's your problem," Stark said, squeezing his shoulder again. "You can't even tell when you _like _a girl, for crying out loud." He moved his hand to point to Loki's head.

"These weird thoughts and strange urges you're feeling ain't unnatural. In fact, quite the opposite. You've got feelings for Darcy. That's the only explanation."

Loki sucked in a huge breath and moved to stand. "Mr. Stark. I do believe you have taken enough liberty in lecturing me on such… lewd and unbecoming topics. Your diagnosis is not only absurd, but also grossly incorrect."

"Believe me, bro," Stark said, standing up to face him. "I know. I'm never wrong."

Loki snorted, "You are also a very deluded man."

"That may be so, but I'm telling you now. You like her."

Loki moved to the door. "Do not tempt me to come around here again," he said, and reached for the handle.

Stark stopped him. "If you don't believe me, go on a date with her."

Loki froze. "What?"

"Go on a date with her. Ask her out. If it's horrible and torturous, then fine, you don't like her. But just see how it goes. Then come back and tell me I'm wrong."

Loki stared at the wall for a long time, mulling everything over in his clouded mind.

"Please?" Stark said softly.

Loki sighed. "For arguments' sake," he eventually conceded with a raw smile. "You may soon come to find, Mr. Stark, that _I _am never wrong."

And with that he walked out the door. Stark ran out to tell him Darcy was still upstairs, but when he flung the door back open, Loki had disappeared.

* * *

><p><strong>Skel: <em>Endless praise directed at Frakkyfire for her incredibleness. Which is now a word. It needed to be invented to attempt to encapsulate her awesomeness. <em>**


	12. Chapter 12

**Skel: _Oh wow guys, this has taken far too long, I apologise for my slackness, I don't even have an excuse. Your reviews are completely undeserved and unfathomably appreciated, thank you so much!_**

**_Frakkyfire - I actually love you beyond words_**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twelve<strong>

Pepper Potts was a much girlier girl than Darcy would ever have suspected: she was prone to emotional outbursts, easy to fool, and very quick to complain. Like so many other girls.

Darcy couldn't help that she was severe on her own sex – she believed most girls were wired this way; prone to both stupidity and hysteria. Her endless high-school experiences with such girls proved it in her mind. However, as she'd sat and listened to Pepper's endless complaints and stubborn emotional tirades about Stark, she'd slowly come to realise that there was hope for her. She was different – far different to Jane, the girliest girl she'd ever known bar the plastics in high-school. Sure, Jane was a nerd, but she was a girly nerd. Especially after the Thor stuff – she was incurable now.

Pepper, on the other hand, was a hard woman. For every complaint and emotional outpouring, she had a million solutions which were all quite creative and extremely violent. To Darcy's surprise she blamed Stark's unfortunate situation on him, not on Loki. She went on and on about how Stark was getting himself into such messes and needed to be punished for it. But Darcy wasn't fooled for an instant. She could see Pepper's concern as clear as she could see her ginger hair.

But even so, Pepper Potts was unbelievably determined; stubborn, in other words. And although gullible – not to mention head-over-heels for Tony – she was incredibly intelligent.

They got on well enough, and Darcy enjoyed her company. She talked a lot about Stark – well, complained – and when she wasn't complaining she was using words like 'fillet' and 'skin' and 'pulverise,' which Darcy appreciated.

However, once the topic moved on to Loki, she felt a little more than eager to go. Pepper was uncannily good at asking very prying questions that got to the root of the problem. Darcy _did not _appreciate that.

Now Darcy was in the limo on her way back to the apartment, mulling over Pepper's observations. For someone so clueless when it came to her own relationship with Stark, Pepper was surprisingly good at relationship advice. Darcy felt cornered when Pepper made the exact same observations as Stark had, digging out her affections for Loki.

Darcy sighed. She wasn't ready for all of this. She couldn't even decipher herself, let alone consider deciphering Loki. How was she supposed to talk to him about feelings if she couldn't even tell how hefelt? Or how _she _felt?

_Ugh, it's all too confusing. Fuck emotions._

Darcy tried to ready herself for the confrontation that was sure to come. Stark informed her that Loki had already left – and also, much to her surprise, that Loki had healed him of his extensive wounds. She felt a little bubble of joy in her throat when she thought of Loki being considerate enough to heal Stark after he'd beaten him to a bloody pulp. Maybe he really was changing.

The S.H.I.E.L.D. complex loomed out of the desert as the limo drove on. She said her thanks and hopped out once they'd stopped, eager to get out of the strange smelling, over-indulgent vehicle. _I could have caught a taxi, jeez._

The Cap was waiting in the S.H.I.E.L.D. lobby, pacing worriedly, his face creased with concern.

As he spotted her his face brightened, "Miss Lewis! Where have you been?" He came sprinting towards her and she tried not to cower _too _much. The guy was a freaking tank.

"Sorry man, I forgot to tell you. I'm not used to the whole… babysitting thing yet," she ran her hand through her hair absently. "Nothing happened, I'm fine."

Rogers didn't look convinced. "I thought we discussed this, Miss Lewis. You need to tell me when you leave. I've had Fury on my back the whole time you were out," he moved closer, touching her shoulder lightly. "And I get worried about you. God knows what that… Loki trickster could do." His face darkened slightly, eyes narrowing.

Darcy couldn't decide whether she was flattered by his concern, or pissed at his prejudice. With a casual smile, she shrugged out of his touch, and gestured for him to follow her. "Alright Cap… no need to get freaked out." She sighed. So many emotional people; it was driving her insane.

They made their way to the lifts, the doors dinging open for them.

"I'm on my way to see him now," she said once they were inside the lift, feeling a confession was in order.

Rogers stiffened. "I should be with you whenever you talk with him. It's not safe, Miss Lewis."

"No." The lift stopped and Darcy traipsed out, flicking her hair as she looked back at him. "Really Captain, I can take care of myself," she winked at him with a mega-watt grin, gave him a little salute, then spun away and the lift doors closed. He was partially grateful they had, because just as they'd shut he had turned bright red. Her smile was murder.

Alone, she made her way to the apartment, dread twisting in her stomach. Pausing at her door, staring at the bare wood, she felt the dread twist tighter. _Here it comes…_

"Loki?" Darcy called cautiously, entering the room. "You here?"

The apartment was dead silent. Evidence of her rush to get ready that morning was still strewn about the floor. She made her way to the bedroom – nothing. _Where is he?_

Slightly put out that he wasn't there, she decided to waste some time. Uncovering her laptop from under a pile of books and paper, she flung herself onto the couch and flipped the computer open. The screen flickered to life, and she saw her desktop – a picture of her, Jane and Thor in Jane's old lab a few months ago. Thor's huge beaming smile worked well with Jane's little school-girl one. They were an oddly well-paired couple. Darcy felt a little sympathetic for Jane – she hadn't seen or heard from him in months. Not to mention Loki's sudden appearance wouldn't be helping her very much.

"Why would you have such a hideous portrait on your computational device?" a seductive voice lulled from behind her.

She gasped and turned around to see Loki in all his fancy finery, bending over with his hands behind his back to inspect her desktop. He had a distasteful look on his fine features, staring down his nose at the picture of his brother.

"I like it," she said matter-of-factly. "Jane and Thor are cute together. And I was having a good hair day, so whatever."

Loki agreed. Her hair flowed down in cherry-auburn waves, nestling at the nape of her neck softly. It framed her face perfectly.

_Mind you, it__'__s that perfect every day, _he thought absently, moving his slender fingers to hold a strand of her hair. He had a sudden urge to smell it – hair so soft and sweet would surely smell divine.

He screwed his eyes shut. _Focus on the task at hand._

"Miss Lewis. I believe there are some very pertinent things we must discuss," he straightened to his full intimidating height, making Darcy feel very, very small.

"Uh… sure." _O__h shit__,__ oh shit._

She'd been trying not to think about this too much. The confrontation. She could feel it coming since Stark's place.

She stood up and moved around the couch to stand in front of him, bracing herself.

After watching her for a long moment, his eyes guarded, he turned away and focused very intently on the wall. An agonising moment of silence passed between them. He could hear her shallow breaths, and the beating of her heart.

"Your presence is becoming a bore. I wish to be rid of you," he said simply, not looking at her. His jaw was rigid and his eyes low. She blinked at him.

_What?_

Darcy felt her throat grow very, very tight.

"Wh—what?" she whispered.

Tears smarted in her eyes. _Oh… god. _She could only stare at him, complete horror etched into her features. The tears had their way with her and dropped mercilessly over her cheeks.

Loki still would not look at her.

"I will be going away for a while," he said coldly. "I shall not return unless I am in need of your assistance in my plans for world domination." And then he let the full force of his evil, malicious glare pierce her.

She gasped, the intensity paralysing her. She suddenly felt like she was going to fall, and steadied herself on the couch with her eyes trained on the floor, not daring to look at anything else. _Don't look at him, don't look at him._

For a moment she felt the constrictions on her throat lessen, she gasped a breath and tried to speak.

"B—but, I thought…"

"It does not matter. I have been able to read your mind for some time now, Miss Lewis, and I know exactly _what you thought_," he was sneering at her, and his last words were hissed. He was above her now, watching her disdainfully. Like the mortal scum she was.

She choked on a sob and tried to suppress it. _Why is he doing this?_

"I care nothing for your feelings. You are another pawn. A piece of the puzzle. You are only useful to me where you aid me in my schemes," he sniffed and gazed out the window.

She felt bitter desperation mingle with her sorrow. Breathing heavily, she tried to argue, "B—but I'm a threat, remember? I can see through your spell. So don't you need to … s—stay with me?" The argument sounded pitiful, even to her. It was an appeal – a frantic plea – rather than a contention.

"All the same, I have no further use of you." Darcy wanted to see his face. His horrible, sneering face. But when she dared to look at him, all she saw was desperate control and a flicker of confusion on his perfect features. Her heart faltered a beat.

"Loki…" she breathed, stumbling closer to him. She reached tenderly for his coat, brushing her fingers against it and pulling herself up by his lapels. His hands flinched and he stared down at her with the slightest hint of fear in his eyes. She clung to him tentatively, burying her face in his chest.

"Please…" her voice was thick with tears.

She could hear his breathing as he remained very still. Although he felt like a statue beneath her careful grip, she could have sworn she felt something brush against the top of her head…

A hesitant touch on her back made her gasp, and with a desperate thrill she realised he was embracing her, resting his chin on her head. She gripped tighter onto his jacket, pressing her face into his sweet smelling chest.

"I take my leave of you," he hummed, and suddenly she was gripping onto thin air.

The silence was suffocating.

There in the empty stillness she waited. Waited for _something _or _someone_…

And then she let out a low moan and collapsed onto the floor.

That was how the Cap found her – nearly lifeless on the floor, tears streaming down her face as she sobbed silently into the carpet.

"Miss Lewis!" he cried, racing over to her and lifting her with ease into his lap. Her face was puffy and red, so she tried to cover it weakly with her hands.

"Don't look at me, I'm hideous," she blubbered.

"What happened? Are you hurt? Who was it? Was it Loki?" His voice was a low growl at the end as he guessed who the perpetrator was.

"Um, I don't…" she rubbed her eyes, trying to push herself away from his iron grip. But he held firm, his hands stroking the side of her face which was strangely… nice.

As she realised what was actually happening, reality hit her full in the face. She took stock of her situation groggily. Had she been asleep?

Her conversation with Loki was clear. She'd been emotionally wounded, and chose to cry her eyes out on the carpet for Odin knows how long. _Gross._

"Ugh, Darc, you're pathetic," she said to herself, smacking her forehead with the palm of her hand. She struggled to sit up again, and this time the Cap helped her.

"No, you're not, Miss Lewis," Rogers said softly.

"I really am. Instead of the doing the responsible thing and getting angry at Loki and drinking my sorrows away, I've opted for the Bella option and turned catatonic all because of a _guy,_" she made a noise at the back of her throat in disgust.

"Uh…" Steve tried to wrap his head around the strange lingo. "Okay?"

"Oh yeah, that's right. 'Twilight' wasn't around in the forties," she let loose a small smile and then sniffed, rubbing her nose. "You lucky people."

Steve was still gripping her shoulders.

"What did he do, Darcy?" he asked levelly, eyes intense. _Did he have to do that? It's not that big of a deal…_

"Oh, nothing," she moved to stand shakily "Just the usual."

Rogers narrowed his eyes, "He does this often?"

She sighed. "Look, Cap, as much as I know you're only trying to do your job, it's just making things worse. So can we drop it?" She felt a little bad for her harsh words, but it really _did _make things worse. She didn't want to think about it. Ever. Again.

"Oh," he lowered his eyes, "S—sorry Miss Lewis."

"And it's Darcy," she said, still angry. She knew he'd probably be all cut up about it. Poor guy. He was such a little boy sometimes. But she really hated being called _Miss Lewis _unless it was Lo—

Yeah, that was a bad train of thought.

"Okay," he whispered. She turned back to him and saw his brow was creased in thought as he bit his lip. She found herself wondering if _he'd _ever had his heart broken, but imagined he'd probably never even spoken to a girl before being frozen in time. Unless it was a phone operator … or his mother.

"Listen," she moved to grab her coat. "I'm in desperate need of some serious liquid comfort. If you want to do your job, I suggest you come with me so S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't find me singing Christmas carols to a cat in a dark alleyway, because that's where tonight's headed." She shrugged her coat on and made for the door, turning back at the last minute to wait for him.

He seemed… very strange. Not the usual Cap she was used to – enthusiastic and childish and oh-so-out-of-place. Right now, he just looked…

Older.

After a long moment of uncharacteristic pensiveness, he turned to look at her and gave her a soft smile which did strange things to her jumbled brain.

"You coming or what?" she tapped her foot impatiently.

He was very still for a moment, but eventually his gaze softened and he moved to hold the door open, towering above her in his thuggish way. She felt a small happiness in the fact that she wasn't going to be spending the night alone.

They had to do that Tetris thing with the car again though. _Is it even possible that he's gotten bigger? _He stooped and scrunched himself up, squeezing into the front seat of her mini with a sheepish grin. She just watched, slightly amused.

Not really caring where they ended up, she allowed the road into the city to take them. Rogers wasn't very helpful in spotting bars. All the ones he picked were either strange Irish pubs, always with green signs, or huge overcrowded nightclubs which she'd rather die than set foot in. Eventually she spied a corner pub, with little old guys enjoying a smoke out front. Looked promising enough.

It smelled promising too, like a real pub should: smoke and booze and nineties music.

She got a few envious glances – and some a little more suggestive – from the various ladies of the bar as she walked in with Rogers behind her. She'd never really taken a good look at him, but she supposed he was attractive. Good build, nice arms, a friendly face… but he paled in comparison with Lo—

_No. Bad train of thought._

Unpleasantly reminded of the reason she was in the bar in the first place, she made her way purposefully to the counter, slamming some notes on the table.

"Two boiler-makers," she said heartily, not giving the slightest fuck at the bartender's shocked expression. The Cap moved to sit beside her with deliberate caution. _Yeah that's probably a good idea, mate. Watch out._

"Boiler-makers?" he asked with a nervous laugh, "That sounds dangerous."

"They are," she said simply, "Hence _why _I ordered them."

Rogers shook his head, staring at the shelves of liquor in front of him with a strangely dark expression on his choir-boy features. She quirked her brow, slightly intrigued as to why he was suddenly so… serious.

"Uh… Cap?" she poked him in the arm, feeling how immensely _hard_it was. _Jesus. _"What's up?" she poked again.

"The fact that _he _could do this to you… cause you to be so pained…" He clenched his fists and Darcy was suddenly veryaware of the counter beneath them. It was probably just some normal wood. Seriously vulnerable material when you're dealing with a drugged up science-experiment who's pissed.

Hoping to ease him so that they didn't get kicked out of the bar before she was even drunk enough to make out with a pool-cue – _well, it's happened before – _she reached over and touched his shoulder tentatively.

"Hey there big guy, it's okay," she rubbed him gently, "I'll get him back." She tried to put on a mask by giving him a smirk, but felt that same ache gnaw at her again as she removed her hand. Did they have to keep talking about Loki? It was bad enough that the Cap was with her, since his presence reminded her that the whole Avengerssituation – and thus the _Loki _situation – was all too real. She sighed.

"Two boiler-makers," the bartender announced warily, handing them the mugs and the little shot glasses with wide eyes. "Uh… enjoy." He ran away.

She smirked after him, flicking the little glass of liquid into the mug without looking. After a beat, she gripped the handle and chugged it back, feeling strange memories of high school parties fill her mind.

Darcy was vaguely aware of the Cap watching her in horror and grinned – she felt a strange thrill whenever she freaked him out.

"Oh gods…" she slammed the empty glass onto the bench, belching loudly. "That's _good _stuff, man." She smiled – a proper smile now, not a fake one – eying the Captain's untouched glasses.

"C'mon Cap!' she said, feeling her tongue loosen slightly. "Get yo' drink on!"

The Cap simply shook his head, playing with the glass absently. Darcy could have sworn she saw a flicker of calculating thoughtfulness pass across his features, but then saw a sheepish disappointment. She shook her head – the stuff was obviously working on her faster than she'd anticipated. _Brilliant._

"I can't," he said simply. "The serum… it reacts to alcohol."

She couldn't decide if he were lying or not, but judging by the disappointment on his face, she assumed it was the truth. What did she know about sciency crap? Nothing , that's what.

They passed the time in silence, the Cap deep in thought while Darcy simply waited for the alcohol to enter her bloodstream properly. She settled for humming along with the nice music playing from the antique juke-box in the corner and watching as the two old guys from before came inside, arms around each other, smiling toothless smiles. She laughed, feeling her head spin slightly. _Oh yay__,__ here we go__…_

"So. Big guy," she turned around and punched Steve lightly on the arm, feeling like she'd just beat up a brick wall. "Tell me more about the forties." Unknowingly, she leaned in closer, her leg brushing against his. She was too tipsy to notice his eyes widen and his fists clench, so she leaned in a little more, innocently curious.

"Uh… um… "he clenched his jaw, "well … there's not all that much to tell, I'm afraid Miss Lew—I mean, Darcy ," he corrected when she scowled at his use of her hated other name.

"Aw c'moooon," she pressed her shoulder into his affectionately. "I _love _the forties. It's so," she fluttered her eyelashes, "_romantic…" _She sighed into him, feeling her head slip onto his broad chest.

This time she noticed his discomfort, mainly because he was gripping onto the edge of the counter. A loud crack resounded as he splintered the wood, and Darcy yelped in surprise as she looked down and saw his fingers digging into it like it were butter.

"Uh…" She moved away, hands raised, "Dude?"

He seemed to be highly distracted, and suddenly looked down, eyes widening.

"Oh… gods, I…" he stood up suddenly, knocking his chair over. The bartender seemed to be holding onto a glass for dear life, shaking like a leaf. Darcy laughed, slightly freaked out herself.

"I'm – so sorry, oh dear…" He started pacing then. _Pacing_? This really didn't seem like Steve at all. He seemed… thoughtful, calculating… his brow was furrowed and his pace was quick, not the usual lumbering school-boy amble she was used to.

But then she _was_ drunk. Quite drunk.

"Whoops…" she slid off her chair, landing heavily on the floor. Snorting a laugh she moved to stand, everything coming in and out of focus as she concentrated on making her legs work.

"Jesus… let's get out of here before we both get kicked out," she laughed, feeling his very strong arm twining about her waist to support her.

In close proximity, she could see the side of his face quite clearly. He looked very concerned, and concentrated on getting her upright with the level of intensity you might expect from a surgeon. She laughed lazily and suddenly leaned in to kiss him.

He blushed.

"C'mon Cap," she leant into him as they walked out of the bar. "Take me home."


	13. Belated AN

Imagine, if you will, that your faceless author is seated in some high tower, windowless and void of everything save a couple of packets of Easy Mac and a well worked Stephen King novel, fraying at the edges from extensive reading.

Here I have remained, for months on end, denied access to my lovely readers who have remained loyal and faithful even when I have not (dramatic music, fanfare, angelic choir, emotional minor keys etc…)

Okay lets skip the bullshit. Basically I haven't got a computer to work on. Just thought I'd let you guys know I'm still writing, and that my new computer is coming in two weeks from the US of A. When it does, rest assured this fic of mine will get updated MUCH more often.

All the apologies in the world for not being able to tell you guys sooner, and I hope one day you will forgive me.

Yours,

Skelton.


	14. I Have A Proposal

After reading some heartrending reviews, I felt it necessary to discuss with my associates the small chance that I might, in fact - after neglectful and seemingly endless months - continue with this surprisingly well received story of mine.

My associates, of course, being you lovely readers.

Given that I have now moved out of home and have all the free time in the world, I promise that the length between updates will never, EVER, _EVER, _be as long as they have been prior;)

I am open to your thoughts,

Sincerely,

Skelton


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